


Dark Secret (Septiplier)

by lilwolfangel



Category: Septiplier - Fandom
Genre: Depression, Fear, Gore, Horror, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Multiple Personality Disorder, Self-Harm, Torture, Violence, sadistic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-10
Updated: 2016-10-13
Packaged: 2018-08-10 05:08:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 29,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7831531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilwolfangel/pseuds/lilwolfangel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Secrets are usually kept from loved ones in order to protect them from them from being hurt by the truth, but sometimes it is better to hurt the feelings of the one you love... than put their life at risk.<br/>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br/>Please give this story a chance, I would really appreciate it as I have been working really hard to make a hopefully enjoyable story. It may have a slow start as I want the audience to feel as immersed in the story as possible, therefore I want a big build up before we get to all the gross and intense stuff.<br/>May I point out that every person in this someone I admire, (Mark, Jack, Matt, Ryan, etc.) so if something bad happens to them, it is likely I'm dying inside as I write it. Enjoy x</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It must have been, what? Six? Six and half months now since Jack and Mark had moved in together? And they started dating about three months before that. It had started after Jack had been spending a lot of time with Mark whilst they had been attending a convention together and Jack was staying with him, Ryan and Matt. They spent much of their time playing games and going out for meals, that kind of stuff. As the week went on they became closer and closer together until Mark finally asked the question that he had been considering for quite a while.

Ryan and Matt went out in order to grab some stuff for tonight, mainly including snacks and alcohol. Meanwhile Mark and Jack were sitting on the sofa with one beer bottle sitting by Jack's feet, another sitting on the coffee table in front of Mark, controllers in hand staring intently at the screen accompanied by much yelling as they attempted to compete in Rocket League (nobody was getting anywhere as nobody was actually hitting the ball anywhere near the goals). Eventually Jack by complete luck won the round, leading to an almost deafening celebratory cheer. After a couple of taunts aimed at Mark and a few questionable retorts in return, they both went quiet and Jack quickly broke the silence declaring another match. He turns to Mark, who looks slightly distant for a moment.

"Jack.... We're good friends right?" Mark said, sounding slightly uncertain of what he wanted to say next. "Yeah of course we are... is somethin' wrong?" Jack said looking at him with a look of ambivalence across his face showing both concern and curiosity. Mark stayed quiet for a few seconds, lost in thought whilst staring down at his feet tapping on the floor before looking up at Jack again, still avoiding eye contact. He opens his mouth to say something but hesitates, eventually leading to the words "Fuck it". He stands up and sits himself down on the coffee table in front Jack. "Look Jack if you don't feel the same way that's fine we can just forget it even happened if you prefer, but I think that it might be an idea that we go out for a meal sometime." Jack looks at Mark, his expression unchanged and unblinking. Mark moves his head slightly closer to Jack as if the check Jack is still alive, when suddenly Jack seems just snap out of his trance. "What, you mean like a date?" he said with a still slightly confused expression. He was staring at Mark's eyes in an attempt to determine whether he was joking or not. "Yeah I suppose that's what I'm asking... what do you think?", he said with as much confidence as he could muster. Jack looked down for a second but straight back at Mark who was beginning to sweat quite a bit. "Yeah.... yeah I would like that" he said cheerily. Mark suddenly had a grin that seemed to stretch across from ear to ear. He then proceeded to reenact an extremely over exaggerated dramatic faint and fell of the coffee table, sending Jack into a fit of giggles as he proceeded to walk around the table. Mark was lying on the floor with a big smile on his face as Jack looked down at him, still snickering. Jack extended his arm and helped Mark to his feet and without any warning quickly pecked him on the cheek. Mark blushed, yet not as hard as Jack whose face had turn bright red.

Mark bent down to pick up his beer bottle from the coffee table and downed the last of his drink, followed by a quite hoarse sounding cough. "You alright?" Jack said whilst slightly scrunching his face at the sound of the painful hack. "Y-yeah... that just made me a little light headed" he croaked followed by a small laugh, "think I just need some water, back in a minute". Jack watched as Mark dizzily proceeded towards his kitchen. "You want a hand?" Jack shouted over, a hint of worry in his voice, "Nah... I'm goo- Ow".

"Ow?" Jack shouted across to him, "Did you hurt yourself?", as soon as he said it, Jack heard a glass smash against the hard tiled floor. Jack shouted over to ask if he was OK but there was no reply. He walked over to the kitchen to see what was happening only to find Mark standing with one hand holding him up against the sink and the other clutching his chest. Before Jack could say anything, Mark suddenly crumpled into a heap on the floor, Jack running up and grabbing him from behind preventing him hitting his head off the kitchen counter and falling into the broken glass at his feet. However, sudden weight of Mark knocked Jack off his feet and caused him to fall into the glass shards scattered on the floor, leading to Jack getting glass in his lower thigh.

Mark was quickly rushed to the hospital with Jack clutching an unconscious Mark's hand in the ambulance whilst a nurse carefully removed pieces of glass from his leg. When they arrived and performed some tests and gave him the necessary treatment, it was to both their relief that it wasn't anything serious. It had been caused by Mark's body not being able to process alcohol properly. He was kept in the hospital overnight and called his family just to let everybody know he was fine and there was no need to come all the way to L.A to check up on him. But most of all, the person who was relieved most of all was Jack. Before the ambulance arrived, he was almost sure he had lost what he had only just gained, sending him into a flood of tears whilst holding his favorite person in the world tightly to his chest in an attempt to stop him from leaving.

As the weeks went on, Mark and Jack grew extremely close and their affections towards each other bloomed and they never seemed to get tired of each others smiles and their sense of humor. They would often get lost in each others eyes, staring into them for long periods of times, not caring who notices and ignoring anybody who had a problem with it. They eventually told all of their friends and family of their relationship and shortly after that their fans, which obviously drove people crazy because the ship they had longed for had become reality. There was obviously the online hate that would be thrown at them but they didn't care. They were happy and that's what mattered.


	2. Chapter 2

It has been just over nine months they had been together and it was just as perfect as when it had started.... if you don't include Mark's heart attack. But apart from that everything has been like a dream and they were a match made in heaven. Jack had moved in around six months ago, shortly after Matt and Ryan had moved out into their own apartment elsewhere in L.A. Jack and Mark were very satisfied... in many ways... to put it not so bluntly the sex was great and with no-one living with them, there was a fairly big demand and there was plenty in stock. They loved each other more than life itself and nothing was going to change that.

Jack's birthday was coming up in a couple days and Mark wanted to do something special as it was his first birthday whilst in this relationship, he knew it was a but corny but he wanted a good excuse to surprise Jack and treat him. He came up with a quick list of things to for tomorrow in preparation:

• Make sure you have all the ingredients for breakfast (sausages, eggs, bread, pancake ingredients, etc.)

• MAKE SURE WE HAVE COFFEE

• Book a table for two at the Providence for 7:30pm

• Head down town and grab him his present and a card

• Go to store and grab all the ingredients for the cake and the food coloring for the icing

Mark was content knowing that he was going to make his boyfriend happy. He put the list in his pocket to be sure that Jack didn't see it and went about his day as per usual, which mainly involved filming, editing and spending time with Jack whether that was going out somewhere or just snuggling up on the sofa watching TV or a film.

After Mark and Jack had crawled into bed after a long day of video games, recording, editing and eating (hard life, I know), Mark scooted up behind Jack and pulled him close, nibbling and kissing his neck and shoulder. Jack who had his back to him turned his head slightly in Mark's direction. "You're happy" he whispered quietly and turned his head again to face to wall and relaxed, closed his eyes started to drift off.

"OW WHAT THE FUCK!" Jack suddenly jumped sideways, causing him to fall out the bed. Mark sat up startled and crawled to Jack's side of the bed and saw Jack clutching his shoulder sitting on the floor. "WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO THAT FER?" Jack shouted at a very confused looking Mark staring down at his angered boyfriend. "What's wrong? Did I do something wrong?", Mark looked extremely confused as he did everything they usually did, or at least he thought he did anyway. Jack slowly took his hand away from his shoulder, however Mark couldn't really make out what was there in the dark without his glasses. Mark reached for the switch and turned on the bedside lamp and put on his glasses to reveal a deep bite mark that was was oozing a crimson red fluid covering his shoulder as well as his right hand that had been applying pressure to his injury. Mark wiped the side of his mouth to find Jack's blood on his knuckle along with a strange metallic taste in his mouth. "Oh my god did I..? Oh my god Jack I- I didn't m- mean...", his words started to stutter and trail off, turning Jack's anger to guilt for screaming at Mark when he saw his eyes begin to well up, he obviously didn't mean to hurt him. Jack stood up and cupped Mark's damp face in his hands, wiping away his tears with his thumbs whilst trying to ignore the hot burning pain in his shoulder. "Come on you doof, I'm sure you didn't mean ta hurt me. It was an accident." Mark nodded, Jack ran his fingers through Mark's hair and took a step back. "I'll go clean this up", causing him to unconsciously grab his injured shoulder again "I will be back in a few minutes, you OK now?", Mark nodded, a look of shame on his face, finding it hard to pick up the courage to look at him.

Jack walked out of the room and to the bathroom across the hall. He looked at his shoulder in the mirror and was astonished by how deep Mark had managed to sink his teeth in, "Crap... That's a bit deep for an accident ain't it? Looks as if he was gonna try an' eat me!". He was confused but brushed it away and began to clean up the blood with a wet rag, flinching every time he touched the bite. "Mark would never hurt a fly never mind intentionally try and take chunk out of me! What am I thinkin'?". He grabbed some padding and clean bandages over it and looked at the state of his attempt. "Agh I'll get it looked at tomorrow, it's nay too bad..." he quietly told himself while attempting to neaten up the gauze wrapped around his shoulder.

Jack wandered back into the room to find the bed empty and Mark nowhere to be seen. He wandered downstairs into the kitchen to find mark pouring some coffee into Jack's favourite mug. "Mark? What are ya doin'?" Jack said quietly as he approached him from behind. Mark jumped slightly when he heard him and turned to face him, coffee mug in hand and eyes still a little glassy. "Oh, I- er- made some coffee, you want some?", he extended the mug out to Jack as if it were some kind of peace offering. Jack cautiously took the mug from Mark and took a sip, all the while keeping his eyes on Mark. He looked as if he was really trying to force the smile that was plastered onto his face, with his bottom lip occasionally trembling. "Thanks, you sure you're OK Mark? You look a bit peaky" Jack said, showing concern as Mark appeared to be getting more and more pale, "Why you worrying about me? You're the one who's hurt.." He said in a quiet voice, staring down at Jack's feet. "Mark look I'm fine! See?" He attempted to wiggle his shoulder, but that just caused Jack to bite his lip to hold back from cursing at the pain. Mark wasn't fooled and just looked even more ashamed. "Come on, let's get some shut eye. I can get it sorted in the morning, yeah?" He kissed Mark on the cheek which he found quite reassuring to know Jack wasn't angry with him and they both headed up for bed catch some sleep before the sun came up.


	3. Chapter 3

Jack opened his eyes, trying to adjust them to the sunlight glaring through the window. He rolled over to find Mark absent, which he found odd considering Mark would usually wake him up. He sat up and called his name a couple times before noticing the little piece of paper with Jack written across it. Jack put on his reading glasses and read the note.

Dear Jacki,  
I am really sorry about last night I don't know what came over me. I haven't been feeling like myself recently, maybe I need a day off. Anyways I headed into town to grab some stuff, should be back between 5-6. Also I called the doctors office and I got you an appointment for 12:10pm. Hope thats alright it was the only one available today.  
See you soon,  
Markimoo xxx

Jack glanced over at his bedside and turned on the lock screen on his phone - 11:48am. "SHIT!" Jack jumped out of bed, trying to pull on some pants as he ran down the stairs, somehow managing not to fall down them. He ran down to the main bathroom, put on a shirt, sorted his hair and brushed his teeth. He looks at his watch- 12:01, the shower can wait he thought. He grabbed his hoodie an sprinted down the sidewalk, there was no time to call for a taxi and Mark had the car. He sprinted across the road and down the street towards the doctors. He ran in through the door and almost collapsed when he stopped because he was so exhausted, the receptionist looked at him with a small smile forming in the corner of her mouth. "Did we have a bit of a lie in Mr. Mcloughlin?", he looked up to look at the humored receptionist who appeared to be looking down at his feet. He had put on Mark's fluffy bunny slippers by mistake. He looked back up at the receptionist and went red in the face, "would you believe me if I said it was the latest trend?". She snickered, "No, then again who am I to say? Head over to the the doctors office, you remember where to go?" "Yeah... Could you you possibly look after these?" Taking off the slippers and holding then out across the desk. She hid them behind the desk and he made his way to the doctors office.

"Everything looks fine Mr. Mcloughlin, do you mind telling me how this happened?". "Mark- ", suddenly he stopped. He didn't want to get Mark in any trouble but he could think of a good excuse that wouldn't get someone in trouble and he was running out of time to answer, "It's a kink thing...". Jack suddenly went bright red, 'For fuck sake Jack a kink thing???' He thought to himself 'So instead of making people think Mark i just got a little too rough by accident, you made him seem like a PERVERTED WEIRDO??? Might as well have told him he is a fucking furry! Good job Jack...'. Dr. Hanson cocked his head slightly as if trying to work out whether to take this seriously or not. He decided to just ignore it completely and pretend he didn't hear what he said. He hands Jack some tablets "Take these three times a day, it should help with the shoulder pains which I imagine shouldn't take more than two maybe three weeks to completely heal. There may be small amount of scaring left however." Jack was fine with that, it just meant he had permanent love bite from Mark which he found quite amusing. "You remember how to bandage it correctly or would you like another demonstration?" Dr. Hanson asked, still slightly amused by Jack's slightly pathetic attempt to bandage it the night before. "I'm good thanks" Jack replied with a smirk, "I'll see you soon to get it checked". Jack left, nearly forgetting the bunny slippers and decided that it was warm enough to walk back bare foot without seeming too weird whilst hiding the slippers under his hoodie.

It would still be a few hours before Mark got back so Jack decided he would do a random livestream on Twitch. He quickly put it up on Twitter and Facebook and started streaming some more Kerbal Space Program. A few of the fans noticed the bandages sticking out from under Jack's hoodie, but he just said he had a bit of an accident but he was fine. He must have been streaming for about four and a half hours before he finished up the stream and said goodbye. He decided that he was going to be productive before Mark gets back and did some editing. He got about an hour of editing done before he heard "Honey I'm home!" from downstairs, his voice was deep yet oddly soothing to hear... it was definitely Mark.

Jack came downstairs to find Mark putting away food in the fridge and cupboards and a small fancy looking off-white gift bag with black ribbon handles sitting on the bench beside him. Jack snuck down the stairs while Mark's back was facing him, he tiptoed down until the second step from the bottom creaked, as it always does and Mark nearly jumped out his skin and spun to face Jack who looked slightly startled by his reaction. "Oh- Jack- hi! I didn't think you'd be home!" Jack had a confused look on his face, "You realize my doctors appointment finished hours ago right?". Mark looked even more confused than Jack at this point, "I thought you were going to meet up with Ryan and Matt at their place to do some games for their channel?". Jack's mind suddenly clicked and remembered he should have left for their apartment about half an hour prior, "Shit I forgot, I should probably call them and tell them I'll be there soon". Jack rushed off, scrolling through his contacts for Matt's number and Mark continued to unpack the shopping into their correct kitchen units.

After Mark was sure Jack wasn't looking, he removed the small box from the gift bag and opened in. Inside was a silver chain bracelet with a silver tag, engraved on it: 'Booper Dooper' written in a fancy handwritten font with a single small emerald studded into the corner of the tag. He smiled as he closed the lid again gently and placing it back in it's bag. He knew that Jack would love it and making Jack smile had become a big part of his life.


	4. Chapter 4

Jack had taken the car and was on his way to meet Ryan and Matt to record some Drawful with Supermega and Oney. When he got there they had a couple of drinks before they started recording. When they started, Oney was the one talented at drawing, Matt and Ryan coming up with the most offensive jokes possible and Jack was seemingly the most innocent of the four. They finished up recording and began to get drunk to the point their knees wanted to buckle. Ryan seemed to be downing shots like there was no tomorrow, despite not having a high tolerance to alcohol. He staggered to his feet and stood up on top of the coffee table holding up a lit candle in a tealight as some kind of tribute. "To our- " *belch* "To our good... GAAAAAY friend Jack... or Sean... whatever I dunno". Jack sat there with a very smug face, Oney wasn't even really paying attention as he was doing something on his phone, and Matt seemed to look slightly uncomfortable as he watched Ryan drunkenly stumbling closer to him. "I- um- it's your birthday tomorrow right? Yeah? Am I- Am I right?", Jack nodded, his smile getting wider at the expense of his completely pissed friend. "Well- we... from Matty... and me... maybe Oney I dunno if he cares... Happy Bi...." *HEURGH*. All of a sudden Ryan throws up, narrowly avoiding Matt which causes him to freak out and climb on top of his friends, using them as a bridge across the sofa. For those of you don't know, Matt has a fear called emetophobia which is basically a fear of puke. So Matt was freaking out.

"WHAT TIME IS IT?" Oney shouted at Jack, attempting to make his voice heard over Matt's cursing and screams at his continuous failure at playing frustrating games on his Xbox as well as the occasional shout for somebody to clean up the puke which had been on the floor for about an hour and a half now. This plus Ryan's random drunken statements and insults that nobody seemed to be listening too. At this point Jack and Oney were pretty pissed too. Jack reached for his phone and pulled it out his pocket , dropped it, picked up again, tutted at the crack in the corner of the screen and turned on his phone:

01:44am - Tuesday 7th February

[✉ Markimoo ♥: Hey! Just wondering what time you're gett...] 10:23pm

[✉ Markimoo ♥: Hope you're having fun! Don't be too long x ] 11:16pm

[✉ Markimoo ♥: Please call me, you said you'd be home a ... ] 01:36am

[


	5. Chapter 5

Mark was lying on the examination bed in the small medical room, waiting for the doctor to arrive. He lay on his side staring at the wall, his right hand under his head and his left lying in front of him which he was unable to feel thanks to painkillers and was very heavily bandaged from just below his knuckles and upward, the dressing becoming a bit icky. He had completely zoned out, lost in thought and completely unaware when his doctor came in quietly through the door staring down at his clipboard. He flips up a page, still keeping his eyes on the board in hand, "Mr. Fischbach....". The doctor looked over to his patient who still lay on his back looking up. "Mark?" he said doubtfully said, then noticing his bright red hair sticking up slightly, "Mark!" he said confidently identifying his patient. Mark snapped out of his daydream and rolled over to see the doctor standing there in slight disbelief, it was Dr. Ridgewell. Mark, Jack and him had been friends for a while now and had began to hang out more now that he had a full time job in the L.A. hospital. He still had a small dent in his head from when they had been messing around at Comic Con and Felix accidentally stabbed him in the head with his nail.

Mark was staring at his doctor, unsure if he was happy to see him or not, what if he told Jack? "Tom... hi" Mark said quietly. Tom walked over to him, still looking slightly surprised to see him here. "Mark, what the hell happened? This says you completely fucked up your hand" slightly tilting his clipboard to signify where he got the information from. "It says it was caused by a violent outburst, did you get into a fight with someone?", he sounded quite concerned for his friend as this kind of behavior was very unlike Mark. "Yeah, the banister looked at me funny" Mark said, a slight smile forming in the corner of his mouth. "This doesn't sound like you Mark! You're genuinely the nicest most laid back guy I know! Why would... you didn't break up with Jack or anything did you?", Mark's eyes widened "NO! No god no nothing like that! I just... I need to know if I am right about something. Recently... I can't really explain it; I sometimes want to lash out for no reason and usually I can control it but... I'm afraid someone will get hurt...", his words began to trail off as Tom put his hand on Mark's shoulder, reassuring him that everything would be OK. "I'll tell you what we'll do, I will send my next appointment to Dr. Avidan so we can work out the problem, does that sound good?". Mark nodded his head slowly, sitting himself up at the edge of the bed. He instinctively used his left hand to raise himself, quickly reeling it back as he felt a sudden pain take over it. "Maybe we should take a look at that first and get some clean bandages".

Tom began to slowly unwrap the dressing around Mark's hand, causing Mark's arm to stiffen and bite his lip as he could still feel the pin despite strength of the painkillers he had been given. Tom finished taking the last of the bandaging of, his fingers had been forced back into place so that the bone could heal, however they still looked slightly misshapen and were still extremely bruised and cut. The doctors from earlier managed to reduce most of the swelling in his hand and had stitched the small crater in his hand where his knuckle had been. "Jesus Mark, how many times did you punch that thing?" Tom said with a look of both shock and slight horror at the sight of his hand. "I dunno, once maybe" Mark mumbled, Tom looking at him in disbelief. "Mark, I don't think it's possible for a normal human male to cause tha-", his sentence cut short by Mark grabbing his friend's throat with extreme force and pinning him to the wall, slowly lifting his feet off the floor. Tom began to desperately claw at Mark's arms and face in attempt to make him loosen his grip but when that wasn't working he began to try and pry Mark's hand away from his neck enough to that he could take a breathe, but that wasn't happening either. Mark positioned his head by Tom's ear, a disturbingly large grin across his face, "Who said I'm normal?" in a low and gravely whisper, his grin seeming to get even wider. He moved his head back to face Tom who was staring at Mark's eyes which had become completely bloodshot, turning his eyes red around his iris. Tom, still trying to pry away Mark's hand, was beginning to lose consciousness before being dropped to the floor and watched as Mark's knees buckled beneath him and falling to his knees, leaving Tom to slide down the wall gasping for air. He was staring at Mark who appeared to be clutching his head with both hands as if his left wasn't badly injured before falling onto the hard floor, hitting his head off the hard floor and drifting into unconsciousness.

Mark sat up slowly, looking around the room to find himself lying on the floor by the bed with absolutely no recollection of what had just happened a few minutes prior and his head felt like it was throbbing. He sat there for a moment wondering if he had just blacked out and fallen off the bed, but then where was Tom? Had he gone to get someone? Mark stood up, his legs a little shaky so he used the metal bed frame as support to lift him up with his right hand. He plonked himself onto the edge of the bed, his head was still spinning so he lay back and got his phone out his pocket. There was a text from Jack sent about half an hour earlier:

06:27am - Tuesday 7th February

[✉ Jackaboy ♥: Oh my god Mark I'm so sorry I didn't text y...] 05:59am

[✉ Jackaboy ♥: Should be back for about 9-ish, love you xx ] 06:00am

 

'Should I tell him what happened?' Mark thought to himself, 'Nah I can tell him when he gets back, I don't want to worry him... but what if it happens again?'. He didn't want to accidentally attack the house again and scare Jack. Maybe this time it was just a blip, a glitch... he just didn't see it coming this time. 'I can keep it under control next time.'

Jackaboy ♥

[Oh my god Mark I'm so sorry I didn't]  
[text you last night! I passed out and ]  
[no taxis would take me! x ] 05:59am

[Should be back about 9-ish, love you xx] 06:00am

06:28am [It's fine, was just worried is all! See you soon x]

 

He suddenly noticed his left hand was still without bandages. Just looking at it made it ache, yet he couldn't stop staring at the damage that random outburst had caused. The pain was becoming unbearable so he looked away which seemed to help slightly. As he looked up he saw the door slightly opened, Tom standing there and appeared to be talking quietly to someone just out of view. Mark gave him a confused look from across the room, "Tom, what are you doing?" Tom stopped his conversation and looked at him giving him a quick smile before walking into the room followed by a nurse with a little notebook and pen in her hand.

Tom sat himself down at his desk and the nurse pulled up a chair up in front of Mark. She gave him a warm smile and held out her hand to shake his, "Hi Mr. Fischbach, I'm Miss Singh. I'm a psychiatric nurse here, I was wondering if we could have a bit of a chat?" Mark shook her hand and nodded his head in agreement, expecting a conversation about his random outburst against the banister post. "I need you you to tell me what just happened a few minutes ago, describe your thoughts, emotions or any other feelings you may have experienced." Mark looked slightly taken a back by this, confused as to why she would be interested in that, 'Is that not what she is here for?'

"Er-", he started, unsure of what to say. She saw his confused expression and wrote something down before looking back at him "I need to gather as much information as possible from you and what I have already gathered from Dr. Ridgewell in order to make a more accurate diagnosis". Mark's confusion suddenly turned to dread, "Are- are you saying I have some kind of... mental illness?" He looked at her, his eyes getting wider waiting for her response. "It's not definite but it seems likely, judging by recent actions." She smiled at him again, trying to be as supportive as possible as she could see Mark wasn't taking the news too well. "Mr. Fischbach, if you help us then we can help you and we can help fix it-"

'Fix it? So in other words I'm broken...'

"-with proper treatment. If you can help tell us everything we need to know, we can work out what it is and fight it." Mark sat up straight to face the nurse, "Alright if there is something wrong I want to get rid of it as soon as possible. What do you need to know?" he said, his voice a little shaky but with as much confidence as he could manage, Miss Singh looking pleased with his willingness to comply. "We need you to tell us what happened during your last conversation with Dr. Ridgewell. Can you remember?" Mark sat for a moment, thinking through anything that could be seen as relevant. "Um, we were talking about how I managed to do this to my hand-". holding up his hand to show her "-and... I think he was saying something about it being weird how hard I punched the post... and then.... I must have blacked out cause I woke up on the floor". Miss Singh looked over at Tom who was still rubbing his throat before looking at Mark and writing some more into her little notebook.

"OK that's fine, could you possibly tell me about earlier when you lost control of your temper?" she said in a calm and soothing voice. "Well I was sitting on the sofa waiting for my boyfriend to get back as he was running home late so I was starting to worry about him, and I was heading up to bed... and I just suddenly felt overcome with anger. I don't really remember much after that, it was all a bit of a blur until I got to the hospital, I just remember looking at the damage on the banister post and then down at my hand and feeling sick." She finished writing off her notes before looking back up at Mark, "Is that everything you can recall?" Mark quickly went over everything in his mind, "Yeah that's it".

Miss Singh shut her notebook, stood up and shook Mark's hand, "Thank you for your co-operation Mr Fischbach, we will get back to you soon with the results." Mark sat there for a moment watching as she walked towards the door. "Wait is that it? Do you not know what's wrong with me?", desperate for answers. "I mean, I have an idea but we can't be sure until we run the appropr-". She stopped, seeing Mark's eyes begin to get a little glassy. She sighed, "Look, I can tell you the conclusion I have come to based on the information you provided but I can't guarantee it to be completely correct." Mark face suddenly turned to one of gratitude, "Of course! Anything is better than nothing!". She opened up her notebook and and quickly looked through her notes just to make sure she could back up her theory. "I think you might have multiple personality disorder or MPD, and quite a serious case as well", her face looking slightly grim as she said it.

Mark sat and thought about it for a moment, "So in other words I am never alone in this world." He smiled slightly at his attempt to lighten the situation but quickly faded as judging by her face, it wasn't anything to smile about. "Do you understand the effects of multiple personality disorder?" Mark nodded. "Often you won't remember the actions or thoughts of the other personality which covers the lacking memory of past events and violence bringing harm to yourself and others. This is because some actions influenced by your other personality you may not be able to handle emotionally, so your brain blocks it out." It then just suddenly occurred to Mark what happened the night he bit Jack. In a way, he felt a small bit of relief knowing that it wasn't really him who had hurt him, but then it also occurred to him they hadn't mentioned that to anybody. "I haven't hurt anybody though" looking at her and then over at Tom. It was then that he noticed his red and slightly bruised neck that Tom had been trying to cover up since he came in. Mark looked at his friend, a sudden overwhelming feeling of guilt hit him. Tom tried to cover his neck by pulling up his collar but it was too late as he saw Mark look down at the bed, his eyes beginning to water and his mouth slightly agape. "Mark. Mark?" Mark looked up at him, tears falling down is cheeks knowing what he had done to someone he considered a close friend, "Mark it's OK, it wasn't really you." He knew he was right but it was still... him. Mark still had one thing she said stuck in his head, "You said it was quite a serious case... define serious". She looked at him, thinking how to best put it. "Well, according to your record you have never done anything this drastic before, meaning that your multiple personality seems to be becoming a larger influence over your actions and thoughts judging by the sudden spike in violent unprovoked behavior." Mark's face drained of color, what was he going to tell everyone? What was he going to tell Jack?

'I will have to tell him, he has to know... doesn't he?'

"You mean to say there is a chance this could kill me?" Mark said quietly, his voice shaking. Miss Singh looked at him surprised. "Of course not! It isn't causing and physical damage to your brain-", Mark cutting her short and interrupting her, "No I don't mean like that, I mean me, the real me. I mean like, there is a chance this version of me could disappear". She looked at him, wanting to correct him, but she knew he wasn't just being paranoid. "We won't let it get to that point, yes it is a possibility but with the right treatment we can be rid of it entirely."

'That's what the last doctor said, and the one before that. But he won't go away.'


	6. Chapter 6

Jack pulled up outside the house about half an hour earlier than he had anticipated. He began to ready himself, he knew Mark was wanting to plan something special for his birthday and knowing him, it was going to be amazing. He checked and sorted his hair in the rear view mirror before getting out the car and walking up the path. He tried to stick his key in the lock when the door slowly creaked open into the dimly lit room. 'Probably forgot to lock the door', which to him seemed odd as Mark isn't exactly the type of person to be forgetful, especially when it comes to this kind of this, especially in a city like this. Jack however just ignored it and went in and put his keys on the table by the door. He turned to the light switch by the stairs before feeling something squelch under his shoe. "Eugh, what the fuck is that?" Jack snapped on the light to see he was standing in a puddle of sick, instantly making him jump backwards in an attempt to get away from it. He looked at the stairs and froze up, staring at the blood stained wooden stairs and the sick on the floor. He quickly became panicked and began to tear through the house looking for him. 'Did someone break in? That would explain the door being open... Oh god! Mark where are you?' He sprinted round the corner towards the kitchen, hitting Mark and knocking him onto the floor and spilling the bucket of soapy water onto the floor.

"Oh, hi Jack! You're home early!" He stood himself up, Jack watching him as if he had just witnessed him rise from the grave. "Happy birth-", before he could finish Jack grabbed him, wrapping his arms around his chest and squeezing him as tightly possible. Mark was surprised but returned the hug, squeezing him tightly in return. "Did you really miss me that much? I only say you yesterday" Mark said, flattered by Jack's sudden burst of affection but concerned when he heard Jack sniffling. "Hey, hey what's wrong?", rubbing his back in order to comfort him. "I thought you were dead" he sniffled. Mark stopped rubbing his back and helps Jack in front of him, giving him a bit a confused smirk. "Well that killed the mood, care to explain your reasoning for that slightly dramatic theory?", Jack looked at him, pointing out into the hallway "The blood and puke in the hall! What the hell happened?". Mark's smile faded, "I was hoping to clean that up before you got back" looking back at the empty bucket and the soapy water spreading across the floor. Jack looked confused and tried to hold Mark's hand, causing Mark to yelp and yank away his hand. Jacked looked at his hand, completely bandages and then back at Mark, his mouth slightly open.

"Mark, what happened to your-" Mark quickly interrupted. "I needed to lift up the bed cause there was something stuck under the post and it dropped on my hand." He smiled at Jack reassuringly.

'I hope that didn't sound too rehearsed.'

Jack looked at him for a moment, then returning the smile. "How bad is it?", both looking at his almost mummified looking hand. "Well currently it's a big bruise in the shape of a slightly deformed swollen hand, but as long as I don't try and move it or hit it off anything it shouldn't take to long to heal up". Jack smiled, relieved by the news. "I'll tell ya what, because you're crippled now I will clean up the stairs." Mark picked up the bucket from the floor and began to walk towards the sink. "Jack it's fine you shouldn't have to-", stopping mid sentence as Jack tugged the bucket out his hand from behind, insisting him to rest. Mark smiled and walked upstairs into their ensuite bathroom. He took his pills Dr. Ridgewell prescribed to him and washing them down with a glass of water.

'He doesn't need to know.'

Jack and Mark were sat snuggled on the sofa watching TV when Mark sudden jumped up. "Oh yeah, almost forgot!" Jack sat there confused for a moment, watching as Mark excitedly sprinted off to god knows where. About thirty seconds later he heard him come thumping down the stairs and skid to the sofa. Mark sat down and handed him a small white gift bag with a smile on his face, excited to see Jack's reaction. "Happy birthday Jackaboy. Hope you like it." Jack took the bag excitedly and took the small box out that was nestled in the tissue paper protecting it. He opened the box to reveal the thick silver chain link bracelet with 'Booper Dooper' written across the tag. Jack paused, staring at it in awe. "Mark... it's..." Mark's smile faded, "Don't you like it?" A tear ran down his cheek and he looked back at Mark. "This is the loveliest thing anybody has ever given me! I love it." He put the necklace on the arm of the sofa and hugged Mark tightly, a massive grin on his face, tears and snot of happiness forming (Eugh). Mark was so happy that he loved it, he hugged him tight "Don't you cry you asshole, you'll make me start". Jack laughed a little and pulled back from the hug and put the bracelet around his right wrist, "You know that I'm never taking this off right?" This seemed to please Mark even more, his grin getting larger. "I'm pleased to here it... oh also I still have all the stuff for breakfast in the fridge, you want me to cook something up?" Jack snuggled into Mark, hugging his arm. "Does that mean you have to get up?" He looked up at Mark, staring at him with big eyes as if to plead him to stay. "Yes, but aren't you hungry?" Jack thought for a second; cuddles or food? "Yeeeaaaahhh I'm kinda hungry.... you need a hand?" He smirked as he looks down at Mark's bandages. "Haha very funny, but no I'm good thanks. It's your birthday so relax, you need a drink?"Jack declined as he had already exceeded his three coffee before noon restriction trying to cure his hangover and continued watching TV.

Mark walked to the fridge and got out everything that he needed to make brunch. He started cutting up the bacon into strips when without warning his knife wielding hand stabbed at the chopping board, narrowly missing his bandaged hand. He quickly dropped the knife and took a step back, his heart racing, feeling as if it were going to break through his chest. " Mark what are ye doin' in there?" Jack called from the living room. "Nothing, it's- it's fine" he said somewhat shakily, but Jack didn't seem to notice and kept watching his show. Mark sat back against the bench behind him before taking a deep breath and continuing cutting the bacon. After finishing cooking up the breakfast he brought through a few plates of sausages, bacon, pancakes and eggs plus a couple of empty plates, handing one to Jack. "Help yourself, there should be plenty for now, but keep in kind I'm taking you out later so don't fill yourself too much." Jack smiled, "You really made an effort today didn't you" a smile on his face as he piled food onto his plate.

He began to dig into his plate when suddenly Mark put his hand over the plate, preventing him from grabbing anymore of the food from his plate, Jack looking at him confused. "Mark ya doof what are ye-" he suddenly stopped speaking, staring at Mark's eyes which had gone bloodshot red. "You don't want to put anymore fat on you, now do you you little Irish cunt?" Mark in a deep and even more gravely voice than usual, a serious expression on his face. Jack was extremely taken aback by this and looked at Mark in shock and confusion, "Why would ye... Why would ye say that?" Mark just sat for a moment, same serious expression before giving him a small smirk. "God you're so egotistical aren't you? You sit in front of your camera with your ocean blue eyes and your grass green hair, pouting at all those online whores who basically worship you and you love every bit of it. All those sluts drooling over you, drawing pictures of you completely starkers. You get off on it cause I'm not enough for you, you have to have everything and everyone fighting over you." He sneered, his voice cold and cruel. Jack was unable to say anything, he was used to having hate directed at him but this was different, this was the man he loved not some stranger on the internet. All of he sudden he completely snapped. "I don't know what the fuck is wrong with ye, but I know fer a fact this isn't really you talkin'. My Mark wouldn't talk to me like tha' and he knows damn well that I love him more than life itself. Now I dunno why you're being such a knob head and a fuckin' arsehole, but I won't put up with this shit! Are you on some kinda drug? I mean, look at your eyes! They have gone completely red you look like a fuckin' demonic psychopath! I'm not gonna put up with this shit, enjoy dinner you piece of shit!"Mark was completely unfazed by this, still a big grin planted on his face staring him right in the eye which caused a chill down Jack's spine. Jack got up from the sofa and barged towards the door, grabbed his jacket off the coat hook and storming through the door, his face red with anger.

As the door slammed Mark suddenly experienced a sharp pain in his head like somebody has stuck a large needles through his temples and stabbed them into his brain. He yelped in agony, suddenly snapping back into his normal mind set. His vision was blurred and spinning and he knew he was about to throw up, running to the toilet and sticking his head in the bowl in order to prevent a repeat of the early hours of that morning. The vomit burned his throat and just made his head spin even more to the point that he could stand up. Once he had finished throwing up he shuffled himself over to the bathroom wall and propped himself up against it. He cold feel something on his face and wiped under his nose to see blood coming from both nostrils. His head still felt like there was a swarm of bees in there and there was a high pitched static noise he just couldn't seem to get rid of. Eventually he gave up trying to stand and just slid back down the wall and began to close his eyes.

"Jack will find me soon, he's probably just upstai-"

Then darkness.


	7. Chapter 7

"Come on Jack I'm sure he didn't mean it", Matt said whilst rubbing Jacks back supportively. "Mark isn't that kinda guy, he loves you more than anything, you know that!" Jack was sitting on the sofa, his head down and his eyes slightly red from crying. "Well if he didn't mean it why would he say it?" he mumbled. Matt tried to answer, but no words would come. He had no explanation as to why Mark would be acting this way, it wasn't like him at all. Ryan emerged from the kitchen and handed Jack and Matt a mug of coffee and went back to retrieve his own. He came back and sat on the sofa beside them, all sitting quietly until Ryan broke the silence.

"I have heard Mark talk like that before, but only the once. I promised I wouldn't say anything about it but-" Jack lifted his head and stared at Ryan, a mixture of confusion and annoyance on his face. "And you only thought to mention this NOW? When? And to who? His last prize catch? Huh? Tell me Ryan!" He put his head down and looked as if he was about to cry with Jack shouting at him. With Jack still shouting at him he finally gave up trying to protect Mark. "DANIEL! IT WAS DANIEL OK? IS THAT WHAT YOU WANTED TO HEAR?" By this point Ryan had tears running down his cheeks, he didn't want to bring up Daniel like this, or at all if it could be helped. He wanted to remember the good things about Daniel, not all of this bullshit. Jack's face went red and he looked away, ashamed of himself forcing up memories he knew Ryan had been trying to avoid since his best friend had died. Matt just sat for a moment, twiddling his thumbs. Yeah he had been good friends with Daniel but not like Ryan had. He stood up and headed for the door. "Matt where are ye goin'?" Jack said, slightly lifting his head to glance over at him. "I'm going to go see Mark, see what the problem is. I'll let you know if I find anything out."

Matt pulled up outside the house and walked up to the door and wrung the bell. He stood for a moment, waiting for some kind of response. Nothing. He rang the doorbell again and called through the door, "Mark? You home? It's Matt." He stood there a few seconds longer and then started to walk down the path before hearing a large thud from inside the house. He ran back towards the door, pressing his ear against it to try and listen to what was happening in the house. He could hear faint talking from somewhere in the house, confused as to who else would be here. Here quietly turned the doorknob in attempt to open it but it was locked.

'Probably should have asked Jack for his keys before I left. Crap.'

Something wasn't right with Mark and Matt was determined to find out what was up. He went round the side of the house and into the back. Chica was sitting at the door, whining as she tried to get back in. "Hey Chica!" She spotted Matt and bounded over as he crouched down to give her a hug, her licking his chin in return. She began to wine again, walking between Matt and the door to let him know she wanted to get back in. He walked over to the glass sliding doors which effortlessly slid open, letting Chica run past him and into the house. He followed, stopping and looking around him. The place was a complete wreck, it was barely recognisable to how it had been just a couple hours earlier. There was broken plates and cups all across the floor and bench, everything that had been sitting neatly on shelves had been pulled off onto the floor along with the shelves themselves having being yanked off the walls, anything glass or made of another fragile material had been completely obliterated, the tv smashed and even parts of the sofa and cushions had been shredded. Matt stood there, his jaw unhinged as he looked at the destruction surrounding him. 'Mark can't have done this, it looks like some kind of animal got into the house and wrecked the place. Mark may be strong, but I doubt he is strong enough to pull shelves off of walls, right? Unless... Oh crap it's-" his thought was interrupted by another thud coming from upstairs. He cautiously walked towards the stairs but suddenly stopped when he heard a small yelp from the dining area. He quietly made his way over to find Chica with a small shard of plate stuck in her foot.

Matt didn't want to call her over incase Mark heard him or she made it worse so he snuck over to her and scooped her in his arms as best he could and carried her over the sliding doors, opening them as quietly as possible. He got her outside and put her down on one of the sun loungers. The piece wasn't deeply imbedded so he quickly yanked it out which earned him a bite on the arm. "Ow... That fucking hurt!" He yelled, then quickly covering his mouth as he remembered Mark was still upstairs. He sat still for a moment to see if Mark would come down and see him, but there was still no sign of him. He shot an angry look at Chica before giving up and ruffling the fur on top of her head, "You're a fucking arsehole you know that?" He left Chica to lie in the sun for a bit after he was sure her paw had stopped bleeding and went back into the house and again made his way towards the stairs. He began to creep up the stairs when he heard Mark start shouting again at apparently himself. Matt proceeded towards the closed door at the end of the corridor where he heard the shouting getting louder. When just as suddenly as it started, it stopped and as it did, so did Matt. He froze just outside the door, wondering if Mark had heard him. He couldn't hear anything and he couldn't decide if that was good or bad as he couldn't hear shouting meaning he might have heard him, then again he couldn't hear any footsteps coming towards the door. He pressed his ear against the door, hearing Mark shakily whisper something that suddenly made Matt's realise what was about to happen; "I'm sorry Jack."

Matt burst in through the door as he said this and ran over to Mark who was sitting on the end of his bed, snatching the gun out of his hand and throwing it away behind him. Mark just stared at him with red eyes, not because he changed into the cruel heartless version of himself, but because he had been crying uncontrollably for the past two hours. Matt was waiting for Mark to tackle him or something and he knew he wouldn't be able to beat Mark in a tustle, but he was going to damn well try. "Mark, we can talk this through OK? Let's just-" he stopped as he saw the look on Mark's face, it wasn't angry or annoyed that he had just had his gun flung across the room, he seemed defeated. He put his hand out in front of him, his palm flat waiting for Matt to give him something. "Matt, can I have it back please?" he said quietly, his voice trembling. Matt looked over at the gun that had landed in the corner of the room. "Mark I'm not going to let you kill yourself! What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Mark didn't move, still waiting for Matt to give him back his gun. "Matt. Please. I need it." Matt just stared at him, trying to work out what to do. Then he saw Mark switching his gaze between him and the gun on the floor. He lunged at Mark as soon as he attempted to move for it, causing a clash between the two. Matt was attempting to push Mark back toward the bed and Mark attempting to push Matt aside so he could reach the gun. Matt may not have been as strong as Mark but he was bloody determined and full of adrenaline, helping him to pin Mark to the bed frame, giving him the advantage. Mark was basically sobbing at this point, screaming for Matt to just let him do it but it was futile. Mark seemed to go limp as if his body had just given up and collapsed, Matt wrapping his arms around him tightly to try and stop him from falling, but he was too heavy. They seemed to just fall into a heap on the floor, both of them crying. "He won't leave me alone Matt... He won't leave me alone." Matt hugged him tighter as if he were trying to keep him from falling apart. "I know... I know."

"I'm just about done sweeping up down here, it should be safe for Chica to come in now." Matt put the brush aside and walked over the the sliding doors to let Chica in before filling her food and water bowl. He grabbed a few takeaway menus from one of the kitchen drawers and walked over to the Mark who sat on the sofa, lost in thought. Matt kneeled down in front of him and put his hand on Mark's to get his attention, Mark's eyes then seemed to focus on him. He looked extremely tired and pale, 'He is probably coming down with something'. He rubbed the back of Mark's arm, trying to reassure him he wasn't going anywhere as long as he needed him. "How you feelin'?" Mark just sat, he hadn't said anything since Matt had brought him downstairs. "I'm gonna go ahead and grab a takeaway cause there is like nothing to eat and nothing to eat it on, what do you want?" Again, Mark just shrugged. Matt wasn't entirely sure he was listening, but continued anyways. "You maybe wanna order some pizza? Or maybe Chinese food? Whatever you want, I don't really care." Mark shrugged again, causing Matt to frown. "Mark you need to eat something, you haven't eaten since Jack left and that was like ten hours ago! You have to pick something or I will pick something for you." Mark sat for a few seconds before deciding Matt wasn't going to let him starve. "Chicken and broccoli" he said quietly. Matt smiled, "Chicken and broccoli it is! You want a drink before I head out?" Mark shook his head, "I'll grab myself some water in a minute." Matt walked to the front door, picking up his car keys as he went. "Don't do anything stupid while I'm out!"

Mark and Matt sat with their feet up on the slightly broken coffee table watching tv which surprisingly still worked after the beating it took, Mark eating his chicken and broccoli and Matt eating noodles and nibbling on some bamboo. "It doesn't feel right eating bamboo" he decided randomly whilst nibbling a piece. "Then why are you eating it?" Mark mumbled, his mouth full of chicken strips. Matt thought for a moment before shrugging. Mark sniggered a little and tried to adjust himself, resulting in all the food that was in the container on his lap to spill all over his crotch. Matt looked and his mouth scrunched up as he tried to keep himself from laughing. Mark just sat for a moment doing the same before they both burst into laughter. "Matt can you go get some paper towels from the kitchen please?" Matt just looked at him, still laughing. "MATT!!" Matt, still a massive grin on his face proceeded towards the kitchen. It wasn't exactly hard to find, the majority of the kitchen had been destroyed during the other Mark's rampage. He grabbed it and walked back over the sofa where Mark appeared to be fanning at his crotch. "Hurry up give it to me! The soy sauce is leaking into my boxers!" Matt scrunched up his mouth again and threw the paper towels to him. "Ugh it's all sticky..." They both just laughed at Mark icky crotch.

"Matt how did you know about... Him?" Mark said as they sat eating a bowl of microwave popcorn. "Him? You mean the other version of you?" Mark shot a glance at him, slightly startling Matt. "He is not me. He may look like me and sound like me, but that thing is not me." His voice sounded slightly dark, Matt nodded to show his acknowledgement. "Well, he told me. After Daniel died not long after you went off at him, I'll be honest, I thought you killed him or at least driven him to kill himself after that outburst you had at him. My mind wasn't exactly in the right place at that time, you know I wouldn't-" Mark put his hand on his knee, "Matt, it's fine. I know his death was hard on you, it was hard on all of us." Matt nodded and continued his story. "Well basically a couple days after he died I went to go see you and confront you about it only to find your room completely trashed and you, or at least I thought it was you, crouched in the corner. It didn't take much for me to get noticed as there was stuff all over your floor that I kept standing on everything, but quite frankly at that point I was sure you had something to do with it." Mark looked slightly surprised but then again, 'After everything that happened, who could blame him! I would think the same in his situation.' Matt had suddenly gone quiet, leaving Mark with a a bad feeling slowly growing in the back of his mind. "And then?" Mark's eyes wide, waiting for some kind of response. "Well, you- I mean he told me that he wasn't really you and that he exists when you don't want to, or when you are feeling afraid or alone." Mark sat for a moment, thinking about what had just been said. "But recently, I mean apart from today obviously, I have been fine, happy in fact. I don't understand why he is here now, it's like he is taking the smallest excuses to take over my body. Getting slightly disappointed when I thought Jack didn't like my present, when I was a little bit annoyed he didn't let me know he wasn't coming home-" He stopped as Matt opened his mouth to say something, hesitating before saying something he knew Mark didn't want to hear; "It's Jack". Mark looked taken aback by this, although deep down he knew it made sense, however he wasn't going to accept that. Jack was the person he loved more than anyone in the world, he couldn't just accept that he was the thing that turned him into a crazed maniac powered by rage and violence and showing no signs of feeling nor sympathy.

Before anyone could say anything, Matt's phone buzzed.

10:39pm - Tuesday 7th February

[✉ Jack: You haven't texted in a while! How's Mark doi...] 10:39pm

"YOU TOLD HIM?" Mark suddenly began to panic, startling Matt because of his drastic reaction to the text. "Mark I didn't tell him! All I said was you were a bit upset is all, I had to say something or he would be worried!" Mark let out a huge sigh of relief knowing that Jack didn't know what he had tried to do. 'God knows what that would do to him, he would probably blame himself knowing Jack.' They both sat for a moment before Mark said something Matt knew instantly wasn't going to go in his favour; "You truly were one of my favorites Matt."


	8. Chapter 8

"He still hasn't replied, what if something happened to Mark?" By this point Ryan had run out of reasons as to why Matt wasn't texting him back, and none of them were helping calm Jack down. "If something had happened to Mark he would have called by now, yes?" Jack was still a little panicked but nodded as it was unlikely Matt would hide if anything had happened, they were probably just talking everything over and chilling out a bit. Then suddenly Jack went all panicky again, "What if Matt never made it to Mark's house? He never texted me to say he got there!" At this point Jack's panicking was beginning to get on Ryan's nerves. "Oh my god Jack would you calm down! He texted me when he arrived the house at lunch time." Jack's face went slightly red, embarrassed by his slightly out of control paranoia. Ryan apologized for his sudden outburst but wasn't planning on taking it back, he needed to be set straight otherwise he was going to make everything worse by getting all worked up. Ryan went through to the kitchen and brought him back a glass of water, handing it to him and sitting beside him on the sofa. Then Ryan's phone buzzed with a text from Matt's phone.

10:43pm - Tuesday 7th February

[✉ Matt: Hey guys im gonna stay at Mark's tonight, he is fine Jac...] 10:43pm

"See Jack it's fine! You can stay here tonight and take Matt's bed if you like, plus it's still your birthday so that's another excuse for us to get hammered!" During all the paranoia, Jack had completely forgotten it was still his birthday. "How much booze you got?" He asked, the corner of his mouth curling upward. "Enough to knock out a horse" Ryan proudly announced, a big smirk forming on both their faces. This would surely kill them in the morning but right now Jack was up for anything if it was going to take his mind off of Mark.

Matt, slightly dazed, blood dripping down his nose and watched as Mark texted Ryan using his phone before throwing it against the wall, smashing it. He attempted to lift himself up from the cold floor using the arm of the sofa but a powerful kick to the ribs put him straight back down again. He instinctively curled up into a ball certain there was nothing else he could do, he couldn't fight Mark, and even if he could he wasn't exactly sure he would want to. "You should really put some muscle on man, you're literally just skin and-" Mark kicked him hard in the arm, causing a snapping noise, "-bones." Matt whimpered as he knew that it would just make it worse if he tried to run. Mark looked down at Matt who was quivering in a frightened heap on the floor, desperately trying to think of a way out. At this point he was willing to try anything, and Mark wasn't expecting any kind of retaliation and it was now or never. Launched himself at Mark, sending Matt against the sofa and onto the floor and Mark smashing the glass coffee table with his back. He cried out as his spine shattered the table top, and Matt got up and ran as fast as possible. He ran to the front door but was unable to find the key. He could hear Mark trying to lift himself off the smashed up table and proceeded to run for the back door which he knew was still slightly open. He sprinted round the other side of the kitchen in order to avoid Mark.

He slowed to a stop at the door and looked back into the living room to see Mark lying on the floor, the back of his shirt was turning a dark red, full of rips and holes from where the glass had shredded it. There was a small shard of glass stuck out of his back just below his shoulder blade. He tried to lift himself up but when he wasn't able, he sort of crawled onto the sofa, breathing heavily and not looking up once. Matt slowly began to walk towards him with great caution, even if it wasn't really his friend he still had his body and he couldn't just let one of his best friends bleed out cause he was afraid of a few punches. He kneeled down slowly beside the sofa by Mark who was now twitching involuntarily. "Mark...?" Matt reached over to Mark trying to get him to look at him but instead received a tight grip on his arm. Matt instinctively to yanked his arm away, sending him falling backward onto his backside. Mark slowly lifted his head, his eyes were still extremely red and bloodshot, but Matt still knew Mark was back to himself again.

"Oh fuck, god Mark I'm so sorry..." Matt said quietly, just staring at the piece of glass sticking out of Mark's back. "Should I pull it out?" Matt asked frantically, completely forgetting that his arm was probably broken after Mark had given it a good kick. Mark tried to turn and look at it but any movement felt like a heated blade stabbing him. He was unable to move, but when he tried to cry out, all that seemed to come out was a wheeze instead. He was looking at Matt for some kind of miracle, leaving Matt panicked as his friend was passing out again as a result of the pain every time he moved. He ran for the phone which had been smashed during the rampage, his phone was smashed and Mark's phone was nowhere to be seen, with Mark not exactly being in a great state of mind to remember what he did with it. Matt came back over to him and stood for a second, weighing his options. Then with his good arm, he grabbed the shard and yanked the piece of glass from just beneath his shoulder blade, causing Mark to yell out at the agonizing pain. "HOLY CRAP FUCKING HELL!" Mark was now struggling for breath and Matt was now standing staring at the bloodied piece of coffee table in his hand. He snapped out of his trance and ran to the bathroom and grabbing the gauze and running back to Mark who was trying but unable to move his back or shoulder without feeling like someone had set it alight. "Mark stop moving you're only going to make it worse!" Matt was almost shouting but trying to keep his calm and stop Mark from freaking. He had to sit Mark up if he was going to bandage it but he knew this would hurt like hell. "Mark, you're gonna have to sit up and take your shirt off if I'm gonna bandage it." Mark nodded, trying to calm his breathing before slowly sitting himself up and slowly removing his shirt with help from Matt so he didn't have to use his shoulder too much. He was holding his breathe to try and keep from whimpering as Matt gently wrapped the bandage around the hole in his back, twitching noticeably every time anything touched it. Matt finished up and looked at Mark, his eyes still quite red, "Do you want me to go get some eye drops? You have some upstairs don't you?" Mark confirmed and Matt ran upstairs to grab Mark's eye drops from his bedside drawer. He walked downstairs and into the living room, to find Mark missing... Again.

Matt stopped dead in his tracks, he knew this was a bad sign. He heard the floor creek quietly behind him, he spun around only to be met with a frying pan to the side of the head. Mark watched as he crumpled onto the floor, a large smirk on his face. Mark grabbed the half conscious Matt's shirt collar and dragged him toward the cupboard door by the stairs. He dropped Matt and opened the door before grabbing and throwing everything out of it to reveal a small door in the floor. Matt slowly turned to look at it, in the whole time he had lived there he had never noticed that door. 'Mark never said we had a basement' Matt thought. He tried to move but he just could seem to find the strength to do so. Mark flung open the hatch and grabbed him again by his collar. Matt tried to struggle but in this state he had no chance, especially with his arm. Mark just picked him up by the back of his shirt and dragged him to the hole in the floor and dropped him in. Well, Mark didn't exactly hide the basement, that's probably because they didn't have one. It was more of a crawl space under the house for gaining access to the pipes underneath. Matt hit the ground, causing a massive cloud of dust to engulf him, causing him to cough harshly as dust filled his lungs. Mark didn't really do much, he just seemed to stare at Matt as if to admire his victory. "See you around Matt, it was so nice knowing you. Mark truly appreciated your friendship, however I don't appreciate Mark so... Bye!" He began to shut the door but quickly opened it again. "Oh and I forgot to say, your head was in the right place before. I DID kill him, he knew too much... just like you." Matt skin almost turned white knowing the truth before Mark winked at him, large grin still on his face and slammed the door shut and locking it tight. And with that, Matt was plunged into darkness.


	9. Chapter 9

Jack's vision was blurred, he couldn't entirely work out where he was. He sat up, his head throbbing from last nights birthday celebrations. He had fallen asleep on top of the sheets and was lying sideways across the bed, 'I must have literally collapsed and passed out drunk on the bed.' He to look around the room, then he suddenly recalling that he would sleep in Matt's room whilst he was staying with Mark.

'Oh fuck... Mark. God I shouldn' have stormed out like tha', or at least called him to let him know where I was goin'.'

He sat up, his back facing the edge of the bed. He looked around again and then looked down, only to realise he was bollock naked. His eyes widened, 'Oh fer fuck sake why have I got no clothes on?' Suddenly he heard a cough and Ryan emerged from the floor, causing Jack to fall backwards off the opposite side of the bed, falling head first onto the floor. Ryan stood up and walked around to the other side of the bed where he saw Jack lying on his back, one hand covering his junk, the other rubbing his bashed head whilst groaning, he didn't need a head injury to go with his hangover. Jack quickly turned away as Ryan was naked as well, not even attempting to cover himself up. "God you have no shame do you?" Jack said slightly embarrassed but a hint of laughter in his voice. Ryan looked down and then back at Jack, "Nope." A big grin on his face, watching as Jack desperately tried to cover himself up whilst attempting to put on his clothes. "Ryan, please tell me why we have no fuckin' clothes on." Jack said as he frantically attempted to pull his jeans up one handed. "We decided to have a game of strip poker... You not remember?" Jack sat for a moment trying to recall anything that happened the night before, nothing coming to mind. "Dude do you have some painkillers or at least some coffee fer this fuckin' headache? I should probably go back and see what's happening with Mark and Matt."

Jack came up to the house and grabbed to spare keys from down the side of the step. He unlocked the door and before he was even fully through the door, Mark launched himself at him, hugging him tightly and began sobbing into his shoulder. Jack was caught of guard but embraced Mark, who was extremely distressed by something. "God Jack I am so sorry, so so sorry I should have told you but I couldn't let you think-" Mark was speaking to fast for Jack to properly understand him so he hugged him tighter because despite being unaware as to what was happening, he knew it was bad and that Mark wasn't coping too well. "Well where is Matt? I thought he was staying here last night?" Mark pulled away slightly, sniffling and his eyes glazed with the salty tears. "I- I don't know...." Jack looked confused, then slightly angered thinking that Matt had just buggered off whilst Mark was needing support, either that or Matt was the reason Mark was upset in the first place. Then Jack realised something; the place was bare, half the furniture, or at least the fragile stuff had disappeared. "Mark, where's our stuff gone? Did you decide to redecorate or-" He was cut off as Mark grabbed his wrist and gently tugged him through to the living area which looked even stranger. The glass top on the coffee table had been completely obliterated, the sofa fabric had been sliced open numerous times, the TV screen was damaged and again like in the hall, half the furniture was missing. Then Jack noticed Mark's back, a concerning sized patch of blood stained the back of his shirt that he had tried to use to cover his bandages. Jack wanted to ask but he had a feeling it was all going to be explained to him soon.

Mark sat him down beside him and explained everything, or at least everything he could remember. He told him about his condition, 'the other Mark' and what he was like. How he couldn't remember what he had done and he could control him. Jack listened carefully, holding Mark's hands tightly as he began to trip over his words when he got a little overwhelmed. Mark finally finished, he felt as if somebody had just lifted a massive weight off his shoulders. Jack stared at him blankly, Mark waiting for some kind of response, but he was still processing everything he had just been told. The longer he took to think, the more concerned Mark grew that this secret would destroy everything they had built together. "Jack? Look I know it's a lot to take in but- Jack?" Mark noticed that Jack wasn't just staying still, he was completely frozen. He waved his hand in front of Jack's face but to no avail, it was as if time had stopped. He looked around and realised everything was frozen, except for him. 'What the fuck is going on...?' Mark thought, his mind racing before his thoughts were interrupted by what sounded like a muffled gunshot from the room above him.then it occurred to him that the only other person that could be upstairs was Matt. This set Mark's panic into overdrive and he basically threw himself off the sofa and scrambled towards the steps and up towards the bedroom where they had left his gun. He jiggled the door handle but it wasn't budging, so he positioned himself with his good shoulder facing the door and rammed it with as much force as he possibly could, nearly taking the door off its hinges and leaving Mark to crash to the floor. He looked up to see a pair of legs hanging off the side of the bed, the wall beside it had painted red with small pink lumps sliding down it to decorate. Mark felt sick as the contents of his friend's head coated his bedroom walls, yet he could seem to throw up, instead he just seemed to cough and splutter as if the puke was caught in his throat. He became light headed but tried to stand to walk over to Matt, only it wasn't him.

Mark just stared at him, trying to reassure himself that it couldn't be, maybe it was somebody who just looked similar. Yet no matter how much Mark looked, there was no doubt this was definitely Mark, they were completely identical with the red hair, the stubble, the glasses, even the eyes puffy from crying. Well, they would be identical that is if you don't include the large hole through the side of one of their heads oozing thick blood all over his face and the bed sheets, as well as one of them missing a large portion of brain. Mark staggered backward, falling against the chest of drawers and slid down them, never taking his eyes off his dead doppelgänger. 'I must be dreaming, this can't be real. I didn't kill myself, Matt stopped me... didn't he?' Mark was breathing heavily, tucking his head between his knees and slowly rocking himself and trying to calm down. He looked back up slowly at the dead Mark on the bed before noticing something he hadn't noticed before; where was the gun? Mark glanced around the room but there was no sign of it anywhere, if the man on the bed had killed himself, wouldn't the gun be in his hand? He crawled over to the bed but still no sign of the gun. Then he heard a click from behind, a click he knew all to well as the sound of his gun. He knew it would be stupid to turn and face whoever was standing behind him so decided the right course of action would be to not get his brain blown out by the corpse on the bed. He slowly lifted himself to stand but the gun being pressed against the back of his head told him that was a bad idea and knelt back down. "Don't move." His voice was deep, yet for someone who was threatening to kill him, he sounded oddly calm. He suddenly realised who it was and Mark spun around to face himself, only this version of himself wasn't like the one on the bed, something about him was different. Mark slowly stood up, despite having a gun pointed at him, he wasn't scared, he was angry. The other Mark smirked and lowered the gun and held it by his side. "You know who I am?" Mark nodded slowly, his eyes fixed on him. "Yeah, you're the bastard who hurts my friends and keep trying to hurt me... But how can you exist... Here?" The other Mark rolled his eyes, amused by his stupidity.

"This is a hallucination, thought that would have been fucking obvious."

"But then how-"

"Jesus Christ Mark use your fucking brain! I am stuck in your bloody thick skull, therefore I can only exist in my physical form in your mind! We share the same brain for crying out load how could you not work that out! WE ARE THE SAME PERSON! YOU CAN SEE ME BECAUSE I WANT YOU TO!"

His face went a dark red and his eyes even more so and the veins in his forehead becoming more prominent, making Mark step back a bit away from this visibly insane version of himself. The other Mark took a deep breath which seemed to wash away his frustration, putting in a psychotic looking grin again. "Obviously you're a fucking pussy so I shall be a bit less harsh, yes?" He said this in a reassuring tone which didn't exactly match up with the vocab he had just used. Mark stood against the door and nodded, he wanted to be close to an exit so he was stuck in the room with this clearly unstable man. "You may not see me as a part of yourself but deep down you know your as fucking crazy as me. The problem with me is I can't suppress it like you, meaning basically i have to fucking charisma of a mass serial murderer. So I suppose you're right, you are not me, therefore we should at least have different names right?" Mark couldn't bring himself to respond so his alternate just continued talking anyway. "I have been thinking about it for a while and I have come up with this; you're Mark right? So what about if you call me Dark, clever right?" This time Mark seemed to muster up a nod, but this just seemed to displease Dark. He walked over to him slowly, Mark with his hand on the handle ready to run if needed. Dark stood inches away from him, his breath ice cold causing the hairs on the back of Mark's neck to stand up. "You're a worthless piece of shit, nobody fucking cares about you, not anymore!" His voice sounded even deeper and distorted than before, sending a shiver down Mark's spine.

"W- What about Jack? He came back even after-"

"Oh my god Mark you are so stupid, HE WAS A FUCKING FIGMENT YOU IDIOT! DO YOU REALLY THINK HE WOULD LOVE YOU AFTER THE SHIT YOU SAID TO HIM!?"

Mark went pale, he couldn't remember what had been said, all he could remember was Jack slamming the door as he left. "What the hell did you tell him?" His voice had turned quiet and his breathing had become shallow. Dark just shrugged, "I told him what I thought of him, that's all. He didn't seem to appreciate what I had to say though." Mark's face suddenly turned a shade of red and punched Dark square in the jaw. "YOU NEVER SPEAK TO MY JACK! YOU FUCKING LEAVE HIM OUT OF THIS!" Dark fell to the floor, one hand against his face where Mark had struck him. He let out a small laugh before standing up, this time a little further away from Mark. "Whoo, god you pack a punch, you hide your anger pretty well. Anyway, I gotta scoot there is someone at your door." A faint knocking could be heard from downstairs at the front door. "What h- happened to Matt?" Dark just smiled, his sharp teeth visible now, yet he didn't make any effort to answer. "Also about Jack, sorry but no can do!" Dark's smirk was wide across his face before completely disappearing in the blink of an eye. He was gone, meaning meaning Mark didn't have to pretend anymore. He fell back against the door and broke down in tears, there was nothing he could do to stop Dark without hurting himself or others. Even though Dark and the body had gone, he could still see the blood covering the bed sheets and trickling down the walls along with the pieces of brain that had now mostly reached the carpet. He curled himself up against the wall by the door, blocking out anything and everything that was happening around him and falling into some kind of catatonic state.


	10. Chapter 10

Jack had been stood at the door knocking for a couple of minutes but gave up and grabbed to spare keys from down the side of the step. He unlocked the door and stepped inside, closing the door quietly behind him. "Mark?" He called out but received no reply in return. "Matt?" Again, no reply. 'They must have gone out.' He flicked on to hall light and was slightly relieved to not find blood and puke all over the steps again. He quickly noticed the lack of furniture in the house as he walked through the hall and around the kitchen. He walked around to the kitchen where a majority of the stuff that should be sitting on the kitchen benches had gone and some of the shelves had been ripped off the wall. Despite all this destruction, there didn't actually seem to be any mess. There was nothing seemed to be smashed yet half the crockery was missing, the shelves that had been ripped off the wall were nowhere to be seen, it was as if suddenly had a strange urge to redecorate. 'Did they fuckin' go to IKEA or somethin'?' Before Jack could head for the living room, he heard whining from the glass door and noticed Chica standing at the door as the gap left open wasn't big enough for her to get through. Jack opened the door and watched as Chica limped through to the kitchen and got herself a drink. He followed her and lifted her front paw to see a cut on the pad, causing her limp. "Aw Chica what have you been up ta you daft dog?" He ruffled her fur and stood up and walked through to the living room which was completely ruined his off to IKEA theory. The glass coffee table top had been shattered all over the floor, the sofa shredded and the TV damaged plus again half the furniture was missing. There was no sign of Mark or Matt anywhere. He wasn't too sure how to feel about the state of the house, it was a mix between:

'THEY FUCKIN' WRECKED THE HOUSE THE STUPID TWATS!'

'Did I really upset Mark that much that he destroyed the house?'

Jack walked around the room, then noticing the bandages sitting on the arm of the sofa. The blood wasn't noticeable to Jack however due to the red coloring of the coach material, therefore Jack wasn't massively concerned. He decided to check upstairs to see if the damage was as bad up there as it was down here. As he went up the stairs and into the narrow corridor, it seemed like everything had been untouched which came as a slight relief to him. He checked in the other rooms as he went, making sure everything was where he had left it, again to his relief it was. He then opened the bedroom door at the end of the corridor, then tripping over Mark's foot and landing flat on his face. He groans as rubs his head after giving the floor a head butt, his head was still hurting from falling out of bed earlier plus . He rolled onto his back holding his head and rolled over to look at Mark who was sitting against the wall with his head on his knee and one of his legs sticking out in front of the door, his red hair looking slightly darker than usual. "Christ Mark you coulda moved yer legs." Mark just sat, completely unresponsive or aware that Jack was there, his fiery red hair a mess and his skin pale. Jack rolled his eyes, assuming that he was ignoring him because he stormed out. "Look about yesterday, I'm sorry I left like I did but you did say some pretty mean shit. I dunno why you said it but there must be something wrong cause I know you, you wouldn't say something like that unless something was wrong." Jack moves over do Mark and takes his hand into his own, yet Mark is still completely oblivious. "Mark? Maaark?" But he just sat there, he had retreated into the back of his mind where he would have to deal with the outside world, with his problems, with Dark. Jack cupped Mark's face in his hands and tried to get Mark to look at him but that wasn't happening, his eyes were completely vacant. Jack wasn't exactly sure what to do at this point and grabbed Mark, trying to pull him onto the bed. He was heavy but Jack just about managed to pull him up onto his feet and sat him down on the bed. Jack kneeled in front of him, still holding his hands and attempting to get some kind of response. "MARK! COME BACK TO ME FER FUCK SAKE!" Jack slapped Mark with as much force as he could muster but quickly regretted it, placing his hand gently on the bright red hand print on Mark's cheek, feeling bad for hitting his boyfriend. Yet despite nearly knocking him off the bed, Mark was still completely unaware of it.

Jack was starting to get desperate and grabbed his shoulder but when he did Mark noticeably flinched, his touch hurting him. Jack pulled his hand away quickly noticing something wrong with his shoulder. 'How can me grabbing his shoulder hurt more than that slap?'He gently grabbed the neck of Mark's baggy shirt and pulled it over his shirt over his shoulder to show a bandage. Jack's heart sunk as he saw it, he looked behind him and noticed the blood stain he hadn't noticed before. His eyes widened and he looked at Mark as if expecting some kind of explanation, but as expected, none came. Jack was running out of ideas of how to snap Mark out of it, his last resort based more on fairytale than anything. He held Mark's face in his hands and brought it towards his own and gently pressing their lips together, Jack losing himself in their kiss for a moment. He moved Mark's face slightly away from his own again to see Mark's deep brown eyes looking into his. He still looked a little lost but Jack could tell he had managed to coax Mark back. "You back with us?" Jack said hopefully, searching Mark's face for some kind of response to make sure he was actually back. Mark opened his mouth to say something, but quickly closed it again when he couldn't decide what to say. Instead, he just gave Jack a sad smile which just made Jack even more concerned but hid this through a smile in return. Jack pulled in for a hug, being careful not to hurt him. Mark was seemingly slightly hesitant to return the hug at first, but then slowly put his arms around Jack and then hugging him tightly and burying his face into his neck. Jack wanted so badly to ask what had happened but he knew right now probably wasn't the best time to do so with Mark in this state. "Thank you for coming back" Mark whispered, his voice barely audible. "Same to you, don't do that again you doof. You scared me." Mark slowly loosened his grip and let go of Jack, realizing something. "I- um- we need to find Matt. I think he m- might be in trouble" Mark said quietly, his voice dry and raspy. "What do you mean? Did he go out?" Mark shook his head, he knew Dark had done something. He could picture his unsettling grin in his mind, he knew he was pleased with himself yet no matter how hard Mark tried, he just couldn't access Dark's memories. Jack was staring at him, waiting for a response but wasn't quite ready for the response he was given;

"I think- I think I might have killed him."

Jack sat, his mind racing, trying to process what Mark had just said. Mark wouldn't hurt a fly, never mind kill one of his best friends. "What do you mean you THINK you killed him?" Jack was hoping this was just some kind of misunderstanding. "Well not me- I mean- my body but it isn't me. It looks like me but it- it isn't me." Jack sat staring at Mark, the look of concern becoming more obvious. He couldn't tell if he was just dazed and confused from being dazed from being out of it or he had gone slightly crackers. "Mark, I'm sure Matt is fine. He probably jus-" Mark grabbed jack's upper arms, trying to put across how serious he was, "Matt isn't fine! But he wouldn't tell me what he did with him!" Jack was becoming wary as Mark became more erratic. "Mark calm down, please! Who wouldn't tell you?" Mark took a deep breath, "You wouldn't believe me." After he said that Jack didn't need convincing that Mark was losing it, in his eyes it was pretty obvious. Jack paused, trying to decide whether to pretend to believe him and save hurting his feelings or to tell him as nicely as possible that he was acting more than a little loopy. He gave Mark a sympathetic smile and Mark could tell that Jack wasn't convinced. "Y- You I'm mad don't you?" Jack quickly dropped the smile and decided it best to just be straight with him. "Well I mean- are you weren't dreamin' or somethin'?" Mark lowered his head, if the man he loved most in the world wouldn't take him seriously, who would? Jack could tell he had hurt him and tried to change the subject. "So what did you get up to last night? You have a fun night with Matt while I was passed out drunk?" Mark stayed silent, his head still low in attempt to hide teary eyes from Jack, he didn't want him to fell bad as it was understandable that he would have his doubts. He cleared his throat to speak but all that really came to mind was attempted suicide and being impaled by a coffee table, neither of which he was going to add the list of things Jack needed to worry about. "I need a drink." He stood up, suddenly feeling a hot pain in his cheek. "Why does my face hurt?" Jack's face went slightly red, "I kinda panicked and slapped you to try and snap you out of your trance... Sorry." Mark chuckled a bit and rubbed Jack's back to let him know it was OK, Jack smiled gratefully as he was half expecting Mark to return to favor. "Can I follow you down in a couple minutes? I haven't had a chance to brush my teeth this morning." Mark nodded with a smile and made his way downstairs, Jack heading for the bathroom.

Jack brushed his teeth and got lost in thought for a moment, staring at his reflection in the mirror. 'Is Mark completely lost it? I've never seem him act that way before, maybe the medication for his hand is screwing with his head?' Jack still had to take the pain killers for his shoulder, though it was a lot better than it was before with the puncture marks just about scabbed over. Lovely. Jack took the pills and stood a few moments longer trying to work out whether to call somebody to have a look at Mark. He took out his phone and scrolled through his contacts, trying to decide whether it would be best to phone somebody who was close with Mark or call a professional. 'I mean, he hasn't gone completely crackers, it's not like he went insane overnight! He's just needin' some support is all.' He clicked on Ryan's number and waited patiently as it rang out.

"Hey Ryan?"

"Hey, what's up?"

"Could I ask a favor?"

"Go for it."

"Could you and Matt possibly come round here fer a bit? I will explain more later but basically I'm pretty sure Mark is having some kinda mental breakdown and I think having some friends over would help."

"OK sounds good! Matt isn't back yet but if he's not there then I can't imagine he'll be long so I will let him know when he gets back."

"OK cool, see you in about an hour?"

"That's fine. See you then."

"Bye."

Jack put his phone back in his pocket and head back downstairs and found Mark sitting on the sofa with a cup of coffee and another by his foot. He sat down beside him and Mark handed him the cup of coffee from the floor. "I'm real sorry about the mess, I would have tidied it up before you got back but, I'll be honest I thought you weren't coming back after the shit he said to you yesterday." Jack put his arm around Mark to let him know he wasn't going anywhere, also trying to ignore what he presumed to be a person Mark had created in his head, and in many ways he wasn't wrong. "You wanna watch some TV? That is if it's still working." Mark nodded and turned on the TV without problem.

They sat for a couple of hours watching Myth Busters before there was a knock at the door. "Oh yeah I hope you don't mind, I invited Ryan and Matt over to hang out here fer a bit." Mark seemed to perk up a bit at the news. "Wait, Matt is definitely coming?" Jack nodded with a smile now as Marks mood seemed to increase dramatically. Jack walked to the door and opened it to find Ryan standing on the door step alone. Jack lowered his voice so Mark wouldn't hear him as he knew he would become frantic if Matt didn't show up. "Where's Matt? I thought you said he was coming?" Ryan was confused by Jack's whispering but joined in anyway. "He never showed up at the apartment and his phone is ringing out but he won't pick up. I presume he has it on silent or something cause neither Anne or Dale can get a hold of him so I left him a note on the table to come here, he probably went to 7-Eleven to pick up some stuff." Jack got that sinking feeling in his stomach, realizing Mark might not have been spewing complete nonsense before. Jack gently pulled Ryan back outside and quietly pulled the door shut behind them so Mark wouldn't hear them. He told Ryan what Mark had said upstairs about Matt and Ryan wasn't sure sure whether to panic or pass it as coincidence that Matt hadn't been in touch. "I'm sure Mark didn't have anything to do with this, I mean come on this is Mark we are talking about." Then they quickly turned to see Mark opening the door and leaning against the frame, only they instantly noticed something was different.

"I heard my name, what are you talking about? And where's Matt?" Jack and Mark just stared at him, confused expressions on their faces. "Hellooooo? Where's Matt? And why are you staring at me like that? It's creepy." They stared a little longer before Ryan managed to form words. "Matt went to the store to grab some stuff. Mark... What did you do to your hair?" Mark looked up then back at the two who were still staring at it. "Does it really look that bad? What is it sticking up or something? I haven't really had time to do anything with it if that's what you mean." Jack was even more confused than Ryan, "Mark when did you dye your hair? It wasn't like that a few minutes ago" A big frown formed on Mark's face. "Guys it has been this color for months now, I hoped you might have noticed that I dyed my hair BRIGHT RED. Are you really that unobservant?" Ryan decided to not say anything and Jack still confused. "Mark, your hair is black. When the hell did you have time to dye your hair?" It was true, Mark's hair had turned obsidian black, even darker than it used to be before coloring it. Mark grabbed a section if his hair and pulled it down into his line of vision and saw they weren't lying. He ran through the house to the bathroom where the mirror hadn't been completely shattered and started running his hands through his hair, this was too much and it was freaking him out.

'How is this even fucking possible? Can he even to that??'  
His hair had turned the colour of Dark's, meaning that Dark was becoming a a larger part of him. Jack ran in after Mark to find him on the brink of a meltdown, he looked like he was about to burst into tears. "Mark tell me what is going on! Something isn't right about you and hasn't been for a while and I know you have been hiding stuff from me! Just please tell me, I can help you!" Jack was almost shouting by this point but Mark wasn't budging. Mark had tears running down his face and his eyes becoming bloodshot red and he knew he was fading fast, he wanted help and he wanted Jack, but he knew Jack couldn't help him. Nobody could. "Jack... You need to leave. Now." Jack walked up to him to protest but Mark pushed him back with enough force Jack to slam into the sink behind him. This caught Jack off guard but he wasn't going to give in that easily. "Mark, I'm not leavin'! You clearly need help and I love you way too much to just sit back and do fuck all!" Mark was becoming hysterical, he knew what would happen if Jack didn't leave. "JACK YOU HAVE TO GO NOW BEFORE HE COMES!" Jack was staring at the whites of Mark's eyes which had become almost completely red. His voice almost had reached the level of hysteria of Mark's who was clearly struggling to breathe but would allow Jack near him. "MARK I DON'T UNDERSTAND, WHO THE FUCK IS HE? WHO IS COMING??" Then suddenly Mark stopped, as if somebody had just hit a reset button. He stood up straight, wiped away the tears from his face and adjusted collar before smiling sweetly at Jack. He walked over to him, holding out his hand to shake it. Jack suddenly felt terrified, but he wasn't entirely sure why and very slowly reached out and shook his hand

"I'm terribly sorry about earlier, it was rude of me to insult you and wreck your house without me properly introducing myself. My name is Dark, and you're completely fucked."


	11. Chapter 11

Mark sat up suddenly in a cold sweat, his head aching and his breathing rapid. He attempted to look around, darkness greatly restricting his vision of the room, but he could still make out this was his and Jack's bedroom. He looked down to see Jack lying beside him on the mattress, looking peaceful. Mark let out a large sigh and lay back down and snuggled into Jack relieved it was just another nightmare. Recently he had been having recurring nightmares about Dark taunting him, hurting the people he loved and cared about, but never had they felt that real. He knew he should be concerned about his increasingly more realistic dreams and he was, but for now he just wanted to be with Jack and not have to worry for about it just one night. Mark was wide awake now and he wasn't planning on falling asleep anytime soon, not with Dark taunting and torturing him with the threats he was promising to deliver. He gently combed his fingers through Jack's hair, being careful not to disturb him. It felt strange, a large section of his fringe felt slightly wet and sticky to the touch, he examined at his fingers to see what it was but the room was too dark to make it out.

He tried smelling the substance, it gave off a strange scent, almost musty but also a slight hint of nutty. This just baffled Mark even more but he didn't want to turn on the light and wake Jack. Mark without thinking stuck out the tip of his tongue and licked it a small amount off his fingers. He scrunched up his nose as the taste, it was like he just put a penny in his mouth. Then he stopped, realizing he knew exactly what it was, and he had tasted it before, just a few nights ago. Mark reached out in attempt to find the bedside light switch but the bulb burnt out. He had meant to change it this morning but obviously he had other things to worry about. He felt a slight buzz go off in his pocket.

He reached for the phone out of his pocket and pulling out a phone that he didn't recognise but ignored it and turned on the flashlight, shining it down on Jack's hair and face. His parts of his hair had been turned from a faded green to dark crimson red, his beautiful thick hair being matted down by the thickening blood. Mark slowly lifted up the hair covering up Jack's face to reveal a large gash just above his eyebrow, the open wound still causing blood loss at an alarming rate and slowly painting his face red, this couldn't have happened more than a few couple minutes ago. Mark lost it and tried to jump out of the bed to find something to stop Jack frm bleeding out but instead yelped as he fell to the floor, his ankle cuffed to the bedpost.

'What the hell? I need to get these fucking things off NOW!!'

He suddenly heard a muffled shout and turned his head to see something moving under the bed. He shone the phone torch under the bed to light up Ryan, who was determined to shuffle further away. His shirt had been ripped away, his left eye was swollen shut, bruises littering his body and dried blood in and around his nose and mouth. He had his wrists and ankles bound by duct tape as well as a piece covering his mouth, its sole purpose to keep him from screaming. Mark became even more hysterical as he saw Ryan trying desperately to get away, his best friends were terrified of him, or technically speaking, they were terrified of Dark. "Oh my god Ryan!" Mark shouted frantically whilst reaching his arm out to Ryan, this just making him try harder to stay out of reach. "Ryan come here! Jack is bleeding out and I can't get out of this fucking bed!" Ryan paused, scanning Mark for any hint of dishonesty but couldn't find any. He was genuinely worried. Ryan slowly and cautiously shuffled his way back toward Mark, flinching when he moved his hands towards him to remove the tape. Ryan held his breath as Mark took the tape off like a bandaid, pulling away some of Ryan's arm and leg hair, his lip to bleed slightly as Mark ripped away the bit of tape from his mouth. Mark then quickly pulled himself back up onto the bed in order to let Ryan out of the cramped space, telling him to find something they could use to stop Jack's head from bleeding. Ryan stumbled to his feet and staggered hurriedly toward the door and looked back to see Mark holding Jack in his arms, using his hand to try and slow the blood loss. He looks up at Ryan, his eyes glassy and full of fear.

Ryan had been gone about a minute and there was still no sign of him returning with any kind of medical supplies. Mark was desperately trying to cover up the gash but the blood was just seeping through his fingers. "RYAN HURRY UP!" But Mark couldn't even hear Ryan downstairs anymore. He shallowed his breathing so he could listen for him but the house sounded completely abandoned. Suddenly Mark heard his car engine start up out the front of the house and take off. Ryan had nicked Mark's car keys and made a run for it out the back door. Mark's eyes widened, 'Did Ryan just leave? He wouldn't... would he?' Mark called out and waited for an answer, but none came. "Fucking piece if shit!" Mark desperately shone his torch around the room and raked through the bedside drawers, looking for something he could use as a bandage. He searched frantically but there was nothing he could use in reach without breaking his ankle, and there was only one alternative and it was a bit risky as he didn't want to infect the wound but he was running out of options. He began to unwrap the bandage around his hand, biting his lip and praying the painkillers were strong enough to stop this from hurting like hell. The bandages round Mark's hand were pretty clean and were definitely better than the one around his shoulder which was covered in dried blood from earlier. As he unwrapped it, the bandages tugged at his fingers and moving them slightly causing him to whimper but he wasn't going to slow down for something like that. He managed to undo the last of the bandaging and then quickly began to wrap it firmly around Jack's forehead, the gauze quickly changing colour from an off-white to a darkened rouge. He wrapped it quite tightly and secured it with the safety pin that had been used to keep the bandages together on his hand which he was being careful not to damage further. He made sure that the bandage around Jack was secure before shuffling backward and sitting up against the headboard, his eyes heavy from exhaustion caused by events he could even remember. There was nothing he could do now but wait, hope Jack will wake up. He propped Jack up so his head was resting against his chest, holding him close.

Jack's eyes fluttered open, his ocean blue eyes scanning his bedroom which was dimly lit by the morning light. His felt light headed and like he was about to throw up but he tried hard to ignore it. He slowly lifted his head, his eyes widening as he looked to see Mark fast asleep, his grip having loosened after he drifted off. Jack was torn between trying to get away unnoticed or stay with Mark who despite everything that just happened, he still loved more than anything and just lying, holding him made him feel a little safer. But even Jack's love wasn't going to help, he knew that something was wrong with Mark and after seeing his dark side Jack knew he needed professional help. He couldn't handle this on his own, he was too dangerous. Jack slowly and gently removed Mark's arms from his waist and shoulder and as quietly as he could, he moved his legs toward the edge of the bed. Jack stood up but the dizziness instantly took over, forcing him to his knees. He quickly turned to look at Mark to make sure he hadn't woken up which he hadn't and attempted to stand again, only leading to the same result. Mark groaned and turned his head toward Jack who was on the floor holding his breath and unmoving in an attempt to make less noise. After Jack was sure he was still asleep, he quickly made a dash for the door, keeping low to try and avoid detection. He went out the room and peered back through the door to see Mark still completely passed out, his ankle cuffed to the bed frame.

'Why the fuck do we have ankle cuffs in the house?'

Jack held onto the banister as he walked down the steps to keep him from falling over as well as using it so that he put as little weight on the steps as possible to prevent them from creaking. He made it down the steps, his head still spinning and upon reaching the bottom he suddenly got the overwhelming feeling of puke making its way up his throat. He ran (more of a hurried stumble) to the downstairs bathroom and stuck his head in the toilet bowl, the feeling that he was wrenching up his guts. He gasped for breath as he finished and grabbed some toilet roll and wiped his mouth. He crawled across and grabbed the edge of the sink to pull himself up and saw the bloodied bandage around his forehead as well as the blood that had painted his face. He wasn't particularly keen on the idea of looking at what it was covering as he wasn't exactly great with blood, but he needed to know how bad it was. He carefully peeled away the bandage to reveal a massive oozing gash in his forehead. His jaw dropped and without warning the remainder of his stomach contents came up and filled the sink. 'Jesus Christ what happened to ma head??' Jack looked down at the mess he had made in the sink. 'Ugh fuck that's disgustin'.' He turned on the tap to wash away as much as possible and washed his face of blood, being careful not to touch the wound. Jack looked in the cabinet but here was no fresh bandages in there, suddenly remembering he last saw it on the living room. He walked through quietly and grabbed the bandaging, using the small smashed mirror on the wall to redress the wound.

Jack finished up and then jumped as he heard a bang, though it wasn't like a gunshot sort of bang. Jack looked around, it sounded like it came from downstairs so it couldn't have been Mark, he was still asleep cuffed to the bed. Then he heard it again along with a box falling over and knocking the cupboard door open, spilling its contents all over the floor. Jack slowly walked over to the door to find the cupboard full of cardboard boxes along with a few cleaning supplies such as the mop and brush. He peered his head inside but jumping back as something under the boxes caused half them to bounce up and fall toward Jack. He jumped backward to avoid being hit by the avalanche of cardboard and watched as the contents of the boxes to coat the area around his feet. He looked back into the cupboard and saw a locked trap door covered in boxes and other bits and bobs and kept closed with a large padlock. The trap door was being hit from underneath, as if someone were trying to get out and if Jack had learned anything from his horror games, it was that whatever was in there didn't want a hug. Then again, this wasn't a horror game, this was horror in real life. He backed away from the door, watching as whatever was under there desperately tried to get out, he couldn't bring himself to open it at the risk of putting himself and Mark in danger. He closed the cupboard door, trying to ignore the banging and made his way to the back door, Dark had taken away his and Ryan's phone so he grabbed some change from the bench and decided he would go look for a payphone and call Tom in hopes he knew somebody at the hospital who could help. He pulled open the back door when something occurred to him;

'Where's Ryan? And Chica? They were here when... ah shit.'

Jack was unaware that Ryan had taken off without him, thinking he was still somewhere in the house. He began to search downstairs, but there was no evidence of him being down there. Jack stood at the bottom of the steps, quietly listening to see if Mark had woken up but there was still nothing but silence. He used the banister again to keep as much weight off the steps as possible and made is way toward the bedroom door, peering in and seeing something he wasn't quite expecting. He saw Mark sitting at the end of the bed, his cuffs unlocked with the key on the floor beside him and his back facing the door, crying silently to himself. His face was buried in his hands as if trying to hide his face, like he was deeply ashamed to be seen. Jack had left him, the one person he thought would never leave had left him and now he was alone with nobody except Dark and it was driving him insane. Jack stood quietly in the doorway, he wanted to go up to Mark and show Mark he hadn't abandoned him but he couldn't risk it, not yet at least. He backed away from the door and proceeded to check the other rooms for any sign of his friends, but there was no sign of either of them until he reached the last door. He opened it to see Chica sitting patiently on the bathroom floor, a chewed up toilet roll by her feet. She trotted up to Jack, her claws tapping on the bathroom floor as each paw met the hard wood floor. Jack was in all honesty quite surprised Mark hadn't hurt Chica and just stuck her in the bathroom out the way. She pricked up her ears as she heard Mark's sniffling at the end of the hall before bounding up to the door, swinging it wide open and leaving Jack vulnerable and out in the open. He quickly dived into the bathroom and pressed himself against the wall as he heard movement from the bedroom.

Mark removed his head from his hands and looked down to see Chica licking his toes. He let out a massive sigh in relief as he saw his dog happy to see him, thankful that Dark hadn't scared all of his friends away, even more grateful that Dark hadn't hurt his dog. He picked her up in his arms like a baby, cuddling her tightly as she licked his stubble, showing her undying affection for him. He held her for a small while before putting her down on the bed beside him. She lay down and snuggled into his and he placed his hand on her head, messing with her soft ears. Then the silence broke, hearing something fall to the floor in the bathroom. Mark sat up straight and wiped the tears out his eyes so he could see more clearly.

"Hello?"

Jack held his breath and slid down the wall, making himself as small as the laws of physics would allow as the deodorant canister hit the floor. His heart was racing, there wasn't a window big enough for him to climb out of and Mark would spot him if he came out the bathroom and he was much faster than Jack. He held his ground for a few moments, but he heard no attempt being made to investigate the noise. If he was going to leave he had to do it unnoticed, it was time to put to the test how realistic all of those stealth and strategy video games are. He had played plenty of them for his channel and in his spare time, but how much had he actually learned from them was the question. He thought back to every game that involved having to sneak around, the level in The Last Of Us where you have to get through the house of clickers coming instantly to mind. His mind raked through every game he could think of before finally coming up with a plan that would push Jack's limits in his attempt to escape undetected, a plan even the greatest minds in history would deem worthy.........

 

 

'Ah fuck it I'll improvise.'


	12. Chapter 12

The house was quiet... too quiet. Jack slowly and carefully opened the door just far enough so that he could poke his head out. He looked down the corridor into the bedroom where Mark sat with Chica lying on the bed by his side. Jack pulled his head back in and stood up, looking at the items available in the upstairs bathroom. He wanted to get out bad, yet not bad enough to hurt Mark in anyway, so that crossed off the possibility of luring him into the bathroom and clocking him over the head. Jack grabbed a handful of small objects from the counter which he planned to throw and use as a distraction before pressing himself against the bathroom wall again. He peered out again to see Mark had moved from his spot on the bed and was heading towards him presumably needing the loo and was unaware he was still in the house. There was nowhere he could hide in the bathroom with the shower door being glass and Mark would have to be pretty stupid to not see him hiding behind in the small gap between the wall and the toilet. Jack panicked and did something he quickly realised was a stupid move, he ran up and pulled the door shut, locking it to keep Mark from coming in. Jack let go of the latch and face palmed himself, realising he had just ruined any chance of him getting out undetected as he could have slid out the door whilst Mark had his back turned.

Mark stumbled backward as the door slammed in his face, catching him off guard. He stared at the door then pressing pressing his ear against the door, trying to listen inside. He could hear faint muttering from inside which unknown to Mark was Jack nagging at himself for making his whereabouts incredibly obvious. Mark hesitantly lifted his hand and knocked on the door. The muttering had stopped from behind the door, Jack suddenly frozen and unable to bring himself to move. "Jack?" Mark asked calmly through the door, but Jack couldn't speak, he wanted to say something and open the door but his body wouldn't allow it. Jack swallowed as Mark tried the door handle and the wood slightly moving as Mark put his weight against the door . "Jack are you in there?" His voice was slightly shaky as he said it, afraid he was wrong, that Jack had really gone. Jack made his way over to the door and slowly unhooked the latch and placed his hand on the handle, he couldn't stay in here forever. He took a deep breathe and opened the door to see Mark, a mixture of shock and relief across his face. Mark collapsed to his knees and wrapped his arms around Jack's waist tightly and heavily sobbing, spluttering words of apology. Jack wanted to say it's OK but the words just wouldn't come, because it wasn't. Jack knew that it wasn't Mark's fault what happened but he could have told him what was happening, he could have gotten help, Jack could have helped.

Mark was sat, his arse parked on the edge of the sofa. His hands shaking as he held the cup of coffee in front of him with both hands. Jack walked over and took the mug out of his hand to keep him from spilling the hot liquid over himself and placed it on the floor beside him before heading back to tidying up. They had barely said a word to each other as neither and Mark knew Jack was secretly afraid of him, even if he hid it well. "You um- you think I'm mad don't you?" Mark stuttered, Jack looked at Mark and smiled at him but said nothing as well as refusing to look him in the eyes. Mark knew the answer, he just wanted to hear it from Jack, and even though he said nothing, his body language made it pretty clear. Mark's head lowered and began staring at the floor, he knew Jack was only here because he felt like he had to, but Mark knew he didn't want to be here, he wanted to run away like Ryan had before.

"Thank you for staying with me." Again, Jack just smiled, only this time it seemed less sympathetic toward him, more forced. Mark hated himself as Jack at the moment, maybe even more so. It pained him knowing that whatever he did to him was enough to make Jack hate him so much, worse than that is not knowing what it was he did. "Jack, you- you don't have to be here if you don't want to. I know you want to leave, everyone else has and I wouldn't blame you if you did." Jack let out a sigh, he knew he was being harsh but he couldn't help it. "Mark you know I can't leave you like this. You might do something stupid and it would be my fault." His voice was gruff and cold which just made Mark feel worse, he was making things worse and by this point he wasn't entirely sure he could fix it but that wasn't going to stop him from trying. "Look Jack, I have no idea what he did but I am so sorr-" Jack interjected, his voice becoming harsh and cold, "Yes Mark, you're sorry. You're so so sorry and you'll never let it happen again. You keep sayin' it, it's becomin' a pattern don't ya think? You keep hurtin' me and blamin' it all on a guy tha' doesn't exist! I know you can't help bein' the way ya are but you could have at least told me! I would have have listened but you just- you just keep pushing me away! Do I really mean that little to ya?!" By this point he was standing over Mark, screaming at him. Mark had moved from the edge of the seat and had moved himself right back, trying to move and put some more distance between himself and Jack. He wanted Jack to stop, but quite frankly Mark was afraid Jack would bite his head off if he tried to speak out against him, but even more so that if he didn't calm down Dark would take it as an excuse to take over as he was bloody terrified. He had never seen Jack like this, he didn't think he was capable of this level of rage. Mark sunk even further into the seat and Jack looked at him, his eyes looking deep into his. Then he stopped and stood up, still looking down at Mark and cocking his head slightly. "Mark... Your eye." Mark slowly stood up and swerving to avoid Jack who he was still slightly afraid was going to slap him, walked over to the cracked mirror to see his right eye had become completely red, not like bloodshot red but pure crimson red excluding his pupil. Mark gently touched the surface of his eye to make sure he hadn't somehow accidentally diluted his eye with some kind of red liquid but it was evident that wasn't the case. Mark decided it best to keep his cool considering it was likely freaking out about Jack's sudden outburst that caused it. "Well shit, this can't be good."

"Jack would you calm down! This isn't exactly helping." Jack was sitting on the sofa nervously playing with his hair and tapping his foot loudly, his breathing unsteady. "How the fuck am I meant to stay calm Mark! Yer turning inta a fuckin' psychopath!" Mark bit his lip, he knew it was true but at the same time he knew the more he thought about it, the more panicked he would get and the more likely it would be to happen. Then out of nowhere Mark suddenly lost his nerve with Jack, "JACK! YOU'RE JUST GONNA MAKE IT WORSE YOU TWAT!" Jack suddenly stopped and looked up at Mark, his eyes wide in shock. Mark quickly put his hands over his mouth to stop himself from talking. He slowly took away his hands and looked at Jack. "God Jack I'm so sorry..." Mark went over to him in order to provide comfort and reassurance but Jack just backed up further into the seat just as Mark had before. Mark reversed and kept his distance as to not scare Jack. He stood a few inches in front of the mantlepiece, for a long time both of them quiet until a sudden crash broke the silence. A hole appeared in to wooden floorboards, quickly followed by a bloodied hand that emerged from the floorboards and grabbed Mark's ankle, this plus him trying to jump away caused him to fall back and whack his head of the mantle. Jack quickly jumped up, causing him to almost tumble over the back of the sofa. "MARK!" Jack screamed as Mark slumped unconsciously against the wall and the hand from beneath the floor disappeared. Jack stood on the sofa, glaring at the hole in the floor trying to decide whether or not it was safe to try and go over to help Mark, there was no point in them both getting knocked out. Jack slowly lowered himself off the sofa and crept over to the hole. He leaned over it, keeping his limbs at a far enough distance as to not be grabbed. He slowly kneeled down to listen for any small movements but instead heard what sounded like coughing to the point it sounded like they were about to throw up. Then suddenly something occurred to him, this was the same person that was pummelling the hatch in the cupboard and he knew exactly who it was. He sprinted to the cupboard, skidding on the shiny wooden floors and almost crashing into the door before yanking it open and threw off the heavy boxes covering it up. The padlock on the door looked too tough to break, but the latch didn't. Jack began kicking at the latch until it gave way, the screws becoming looser and the metal beginning to bend. After about a minute of full force kicking, the latch gave out and Jack flung open the door and jumped down into the tiny crawl space below. He instantly began choking on the amount of dust surrounding him and was making it extremely hard to make anything out, but then he spotted the light created by the hole in the floor above and casting a very faint silhouette of a figure lying beneath it. Jack pulled his t-shirt over his mouth and nose to try and reduce the amount of dust he was inhaling before quickly making his way toward the figure.  
He grabbed the figure and hurriedly pulled him toward the entrance before pulling up out of the cramped space below the house.

Matt lay there clinging onto Jack's sleeve and choking with his lungs full of dust and dirt, trying desperately to gasp for air. Jack attempted to lift Matt but ended up dragging him over to the sofa and ran to the kitchen to grab him a glass of water, successfully managing to run into the open cutlery drawer and scrape his side which wasn't exactly his main concern at the moment. He quickly filled a glass and quickly but carefully made his way over to Matt who was still having major difficulty breathing and upon seeing the glass he down it quicker than Jack thought possible. He grabbed the glass off Matt before he could finish it, "Matt slow down! You're gonna make yoursel' sick if you do that!" Matt nodded his head quickly and almost snatched the glass back, drinking the water more slowly this time. Jack looked at him, more specifically his hands. They were coated in a mixture of fresh and dry blood, skin on his knuckles shredded. "Matt what happened to your hands?" Matt took away the glass from his lips and sat for a second looking at Jack. "This Jackaboy, is what happens when daddy tried to fist his way through a wooden floor." He smiled slightly and Jack smiled back, he was happy to see that Matt hadn't lost his sense of humour. "What happened to your head?" Jack instinctively touched the bandaging on his head and bit his lip at the stinging sensation. "I'll tell you later." Matt's eyes moved away from Jack and they widened as he spotted Mark unconscious lying against the fireplace. He opened his mouth as if to say something but decided against it, leading Jack to turn and realise that he hadn't checked on Mark yet. He quickly approached Mark and instinctively checked the back of his head to make sure he hadn't cut his head open on the mantle, but instead he found a rather large bump and sighed, they were out of bandages and there was nothing he could use really until they got some more. Jack quickly turned his head upon hearing a thud behind him, Matt had attempted to stand but failed.

Jack carefully lay Mark down on his side so to be sure he didn't fall over and ran over and walked over, placing Matt's arm around his neck and helped him to his feet. "I need to get you to a hospital, you still have your car keys?" Matt stuck his hand in his pocket and from it emerged Matt's car keys. They walked toward the back door and Jack slid it open with his foot, both of them glad to have made it out the door. They slowly walked down the side of the house to the side gate and Jack began undoing the latch on the gate when he was nearly pulled over as Matt's knees buckled. Jack stopped with the gate and grabbed Matt with both hands to keep him from collapsing. Matt just looked at Jack, his eyes wide before coughing and spluttering blood all over Jack's face and torso. His eyes rolled into the back of his head as he drifted out of consciousness and Jack couldn't hold his weight anymore. They both fell to the floor, Jack clinging to Matt and pleading for him to wake up. He sat with Matt in his arms with his blood drenching his clothes. Jack was trying to keep calm but it wasn't possible, one of his best friends was dying in his arms. Jack pulled him closer, then suddenly noticing the large butchers knife sticking out of Matt's back. He turned to see Mark leaning against the wall at the end of the small passage, only he didn't look like Mark anymore. His hair was the colour of raven feathers, his eyes red surrounded by dark circles and his long unkempt nails which looked to be digging into his arm whilst he stood, arms crossed. He just there, a smug expression on his face and looking pretty pleased with himself. "Mark has really been practicing his aim, huh? Good thing too, it might have hit you if he hadn't!" Jack sat there with Matt in his arms, the blood in his mouth still leaking out onto him. He very slowly and gently lay Matt down on the ground before tugging the knife out of his back and proceeding to point it at him as tears streamed down his face.

"You've just killed one of my best friends... and now you're trying to kill my boyfriend to?" Dark thought for a second before shrugging. "Well, I wouldn't say I'm killing Mark, more just... putting his mind to rest. Literally." Jack gulped at his words, his hand shaking as he pointed the knife at Dark. "W- what if I just killed you?" Jack stuttered, but still trying to sound threatening. "I'm not sure if you're trying to intimidate me or you're just stupid. If you kill me, you will be the one who kills Mark, not I." Jack stood for in his mind what felt like an hour before slowly lowering the knife, his hand shaking uncontrollably. He dropped it by his side and stared at Dark, waiting for some kind of reaction but continued to only to receive a grin. Suddenly without warning, he ran at Dark screaming as he knocking Dark off his feet and nearly flinging himself into the pool. Dark stood up completely unphased and proceeded to pick up Jack by the throat before throwing him backward. Jack landed in the pool and watched as the blood on his clothing and face clouded the water around him. He was lifted from the water by the neckline of his shirt and looked Dark dead in the eye. It was weird, it was like he could see a raging fire but also somebody who was scared of getting burnt. He saw tears well up in Dark's eyes, yet his expression remained pretty much unchanged. Jack knew his Mark was still there, but he was trapped, unable to regain control. Jack got lost in his eyes for a moment but quickly snapped back to reality as Dark slammed him back down into the murky water. Jack tried thrashing at Dark, attempting to scream and kick as he was pushed further down below the surface. He successfully managed to get in a full force punch at Dark's nose but it was as if pain and injury didn't affect him, despite his nose now clearly positioned at a bit of a funny angle. Jack continued to struggle until the world around him faded along with the smirk smeared across Dark's face.

Then he died.

 

 

\---------------------------------------------  
From the author:  
I am so sorry.... I genuinely love Matt to bits but... AAAAH I'M SORRY!


	13. Chapter 13

Thud.  
Pain in his chest. Someone hitting him.  
Thud.  
Ribs aching.  
Thud.  
Must get them to stop, this is agony.  
Thud.  
Jack's eyes blinked open and he stared into the eyes of the perpetrator. The person who was doing press-ups on his chest, the person who was digging the ball of his right hands into his ribs repeatedly. His eyes weren't matching, his left eye was a light brown, the colour of hazelnuts and his right eye was a deep red, the colour of blood.  
He knew those eyes.  
But he couldn't remember where. It was as if he was staring into the eyes of two different people, one full of kindness and love, the other full of hatred and bitterness. They were familiar, so familiar. Suddenly the eyes were gone and he could see nothing as blackness filled his vision. He felt a pair of lips fix themselves to his and fingers pinch his nose before air was hurled into his lungs.  
It made him cough. A mass of water was ejected out of him through his mouth as if somebody had just punctured a water tank. He spluttered as his vision returned and he gazed up at the eyes again. Now he could see a mouth as well. It's lips, talking to him, shouting at him, then they connected with his again and more air was spewed into his lungs. He flipped onto his side and the remainder of the water that had flooded his lungs was projected from his mouth out onto the hard cold floor he lay on.  
He coughed and sat upright - hunched and wheezing, unable to speak. He looked up at the face of his lifesaver. He stared for what felt like a few moments, trying to work out the identity of the man standing above him. It looked like Mark's face, only it didn't look quite right, it looked distorted somehow. Then the face spoke, it's voice sounding husky and broken.

"Jesus Jack, I know they say someone as handsome as you can take your breath away, but I didn't realise it was meant to be taken so literally." 

A grin spread across Jack's face, it was definitely Mark and no doubt about it. He watched as Mark lowered himself to the floor and lay on his back, completely out of breath, quietly laughing as he looked over at Jack who was smiling at him, and alive. He wasn't even entirely sure where they were, it looked like some kind of warehouse, but quite frankly he didn't care as long as Jack was safe. Then quickly his smile faded, realising if one of them didn't leave soon, it would stay that way for long. Jack saw the happiness drain from Mark's face and he suddenly remembered everything that had led up to now as he noticed Mark's swollen lip, black eye and broken nose and small scratches and cuts covering his face and arms. Images flashing through his mind of the events that had just occurred. He vaguely recalled lashing out at Mark and kicking him full force in the face with his foot, which would explain his broken nose and perhaps his eye and lip, however it didn't explain the cuts. He remembered being held below the surface of the pool and his vision fading and also remembered going beneath the floor boards to save Matt.  
Matt.  
Jack's jaw became slightly unhinged as his memory came flooding. Blood. So much blood. He was covered in it, he couldn't stop it, it was coming too fast and it wasn't slowing down.  
Then as suddenly as it started, it stopped.  
He looked at Mark who was now sitting against the thin metal wall, holding his knees close to his chest. His eyes were shining, as if they were made of glass and there was a lump stuck in his throat. Then he began to sob uncontrollably, his face hidden out of shame from Jack. He had killed his best friend by planting a knife in his back and had to stand there and watch him die. He drowned his boyfriend in their pool and was too weak to regain control until he had stopped breathing. He started to calm himself when he heard the squeaking of Jack's shoe on the cement floor  as he attempted to quietly approach him. Jack was taken off guard and stumbled back slightly as Mark quickly pulled out a hand gun from under his jacket and pointed it towards him. He instinctively put his hands out in front of him in an attempt to shield himself from potentially being shot. But he wasn't. He slowly lowered his arms and looked at Mark who was clearly terrified, however he was also out of options. "Jack... don't come any closer." Jack stood for a second, trying to work out what to do. He knew Mark wouldn't shoot him, but if he came any closer he knew there was also the possibility he would turn the gun on himself instead. However he might do that anyway if he didn't.  
He could see Mark struggling to keep his expression from wavering and it was obvious he was only just keeping it together. Jack knew Mark blamed himself because really there was nobody else to blame, Dark was still a part of him that fed off his weaknesses, his fears and his anger. And he wasn't strong enough to stop it.  
Jack took a small step toward him, hands outstretched in front of him, one acting as a shield and the other holding out his hand offering to take the gun. This just aggravated Mark more. "I SAID STAY BACK! I MEAN IT JACK!" His hand were visibly shaking as he struggled to keep the gun aimed at him and there was tear tracks down his cheeks. He hated this. He just wanted to go home with Jack and everything be back to normal. He wanted to have Ryan and Matt over and have fun, but he scared and beaten one of them and killed the other. And although he knew Jack still cared for him, he knew things couldn't go back to the way they were just like that. The only way he could see getting out of this was to kill himself. He knew what it would do to Jack but it was better for both of them than the alternative. But first he wanted Jack to leave, he couldn't put Jack through having to see that. He took a deep breath and steadied his hands.  
"Jack, please. Just leave."  
Jack could hear the sadness in his voice, the sound of defeat. Jack had suspected what Mark was planning to do and this for him confirmed it. He looked either side of him to see if there was anyway he could momentarily distract Mark so he could make a move for the gun. Then there was no need as one of the doors burst open and a security guard ran in, his gun aimed at Mark. He had overheard the shouting coming from the warehouse they were in and had seen Mark pointing the gun at Jack through the small gap in between the double doors. They both froze as the man came running towards them. In a state of panic Mark turned to aim his gun at the guard which gave Jack the opportunity to grab it from him. He ran towards Mark but before he knew what was happening he was on his back and his ears ringing, Mark looking across at him with a look of shock, eyes wide. Jack tried to sit himself up but was instantly met with an unbearable pain in his gut, looking down his shirt which was now even bloodier than earlier. He just sat there staring at it, completely oblivious to his surroundings as he stared at the hole in his stomach. At first he didn't even notice Mark right in front of him, grabbing his face trying to gain his attention. He looked at Mark but he couldn't think of nothing to say so just sat with his mouth gaping, still in shock. Mark suddenly became extremely calm and lowered his hands from his face before craning his neck to look at the man, who had now lowered his gun and was trying to process the fact he just shot someone. Mark looked back at Jack only, it wasn't really Mark. Both his eyes were now a deep red and his hair seemed impossibly dark, his eye teeth resembled the fangs of a cat; sharp and pointed. The veins in the top of his head were prominent. He stood up and looked down at Jack, then back at the man who dropped his gun upon seeing Mark's demonic features. Mark turned his whole body to face him and stood, completely still.

"Mark...?"  
Jack slowly moved his blood stained hand towards Mark in attempt to console and perhaps calm him, but before he could Mark ran at the man at such speed the guard was left with no time to react, being quickly hauled into the air, Mark's hand tightly grasping his throat. Jack wanted to stop Mark from doing something he'd regret, but he was helpless as he watched Mark slam the equally helpless man head first into the concrete with such force it left a small dent in the concrete. Mark kept doing it, slamming into the ground over and over until he felt himself being tugged backward, causing him to let go of the man and fall backward, narrowly missing Jack who had tugged him away. Mark sat dazed for a second until he saw Jack double over in pain, clutching his stomach. He ran over, tugging his shirt off over his head and using it to slow the bleeding.  Jack was holding onto Mark's arm tightly in hopes it would help relieve the pain a little. Mark was running out of time and he knew the only thing he could do was get Jack to a hospital and fast. He warned Jack before gently pulling up to his chest, telling Jack to wrap his arms around his neck to support himself. He picked up Jack and proceeded toward the doors at the other end of the warehouse as quickly as the extra weight would allow him. He ran through the door only to be met with a blinding light in his eyes and a loud voice that was bing amplified through a megaphone. Mark squinted his eyes, trying to see through the blinding light to make out about half a dozen police police officers and guns pointed towards him with patrol cars parked only a few yards from where he was standing. He froze, uncertain of how to go about this. The police couldn't possibly know what happened in the warehouse with the guard, they could have only just got here. Mark approached quickly but cautiously, trying to make it clear to them that he wasn't a threat even though he knew that wasn't entirely true.  
"Please, he needs help!" Marked shouted at them. They seemed to hesitate, but saw one of them nod and another get into one of the patrol car and grab a radio and call for an ambulance. 

Mark sat in the back of the ambulance with Jack who was being fussed over by the medic. Sitting next to Mark was an officer who was supervising this as he would still have to be taken in for questioning as to why he had been pointing a gun at Jack as had been reported by the guard in a 911 call. Mark was well aware it wouldn't be long before they found the guard, quite frankly he was surprised they hadn't found him already. He knew once they did, he was done for and although he didn't want that, he knew there was no way he could get out of it. It was obvious it was him as Jack wasn't exactly in any position to be picking up and slamming armed guards into the floor so hard it left a small crater when he was finished. Jack just stared at him, he couldn't get rid of the images of what Mark had done to that man. This time it was different. When Dark killed Matt he didn't want it to happen, he could control it. But with this man, he did it because he hurt Jack, he wanted to hurt him. Dark had mostly taken over, a part of Mark was still there cheering him on. He killed a man because that man hurt Jack. And that scared him. It scared both of them.

They both sat in silence, neither of them able to look at each other. Mark sat on the chair by the hospital bed, his head down staring his feet. Jack was lying on his back staring up at the ceiling, trying to avoid thinking too much. He knew Mark felt horrible about what just happened, he wanted to hurt the guard, not brutalise him. Jack wanted to tell him:  
"We can leave all this behind us, I know you didn' want any of this tay happen. Let's just leave and start again."  
But they couldn't just leave it behind them. Mark had killed two people which he knew for a fact would haunt him for the rest of his life. Mark is too much of a caring person to forgive himself and move on from this. Also the police would be onto him soon and there wasn't exactly a lack of evidence. Also there was still a police escort standing just outside the door so it probably was best to keep quiet for now. Both of their heads lifted as they heard the door hand turn and the door swing open.  
Ryan.  
His face was still quite swollen from earlier and had a bit of a limp, but he didn't seemed phased by it. He made a beeline for Jack, not even noticing Mark sitting in the shadow drenched corner of the room.  
"Oh my god Jack! Are you O.K?"  
Jack gave Ryan a slightly sarcastic smirk at the rather stupid question.  
"Oh yeah. Absolutely peachy, never been better. FER FUCK SAKE RYAN HOW DO YOU THINK I'M DOIN'?"  
Ryan was taken aback by the sudden angry outburst but then realised he probably deserved it. He ditched him back at the house when he nicked Mark's car and was out of there quicker than a gazelle on steroids, leaving him to bleed out and Mark unable to help as he had been handcuffed to the bed. Ryan stood, shame faced as he slowly made is way closer to the hospital bed.  
"Look Jack, I'm so sorry about earlier I was just-"  
Suddenly he froze and his face completely drained of colour as he watched Mark emerge from the shadowy corner of the room. He lost his footing as Mark, completely stone faced made his way around the hospital bed. Jack knew he should say something, but to be honest he didn't give a shit what Mark did. He deserved a good kicking after what he did. Mark stopped at Ryan's feet and crouched down to his level, keeping eye contact all the while. Mark raised his fist above his head and Ryan squeezed his eyelids shut, but upon realising Mark wasn't hitting him he slowly opened them again. He looked as Mark crouched in front him before dropping down to sit on the floor with him. He looked more sad then angry now, his jet black hair flopped over his right eye, his left eye now more of a mix between red and brown. Mark just sat staring at Ryan for a few moments.

"Why?"

Ryan just sat, unable to come up with a good answer, there wasn't one.  
"I was scared Mark! You fucking took me hostage before beating the shit out of me! What did you expect me to do?"

"You could have helped your friend."

"Mark I thought y-"

"JACK COULD HAVE FUCKING DIED!"

"YEAH AND WHOSE FAULT IS THAT?"

Mark looked over at Jack who was now glaring profusely at Ryan. He wanted to shout at him but he knew it would hurt his stomach too much. Ryan lowered his head but was still looking angrily at Mark who looked slightly stunned by his remark. He stood up calmly and walked over to Jack who was now starting to look concerned as he had a pretty good idea what he was planning; to finish what he started. Mark stood at his bedside but before either of them could say anything to police officer from outside burst in through the door and rammed Mark, pinning him against the wall and catching Mark completely off guard, causing him to crack his head off of it.  
"WOAH WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YER DOIN'?" Jack yelled at the officer who was now handcuffing him and reading him his rights and the crimes he was being charged with over the shouting now occurring. Mark tried to push the officer off but he had the advantage; he couldn't go to jail, he knew he would only be a risk to anyone else in there. A prison sentence for Mark would just be a field day for Dark, it was too dangerous. Jack was trying to get the officer's attention but he wasn't having any of it and dragged Mark kicking and yelling out the room. Jack looked over at Ryan who was stood up stunned and silent in the corner.  
"You can't let them take him!" Jack said, his voice wavering slightly. Ryan stayed silent before slowly looking over at Jack who was still panicking.  
"Where's Matt?" Ryan asked quietly. Jack swallowed hard, he didn't want to be the one to tell him what had happened to his best friend. So he didn't.  
"I don't know, Mark is the only one who knows. Thats why we need to get him back."  
Ryan didn't even hesitate as he ran out the door after the police officer and Mark. Jack planted his face in his hands, realising he had fucked up badly.  
'What the fuck was I thinkin'? Unless Mark is somehow mentally linked with me Ryan will probably know I lied in about ten seconds.'  
Then suddenly he heard a loud noise from down the corridor. The ear piercing sound echoed down the hall, sending shivers down Jack's spine. 

 

Bang.


	14. Chapter 14

Ryan staggered through the door basically dragging a half conscious Mark who was clutching at his chest, Jack's eyes widening as he saw the blood on Mark's shirt and head. Jack looked at Ryan, his mouth gaping waiting for some kind of explanation.  
'Has he been shot? Is that what that loud bang was?'  
Ryan helped Mark back down onto the chair he had been sitting in earlier before propping another chair under the door handle along with a variety of other heavy objects in front of the door and then closing the blinds. Jack looked over at Mark who was clearly struggling for breathe, trying to keep his eyes from closing. He turned his attention to Jack who was still looking at him with a look of confusion and worry.  
"Hey" Mark said, a slightly pained smile on his face. Jack returned the smile, unsure as to how the fuck he was staying so calm.  
"Mark what the fuck happened to ye?" Jack asked, his voice lowered, almost a whisper as it was clear they were trying to stay undetected, even though it was slightly pointless considering they hadn't exactly left the hospital room Jack had been assigned to. Before he could speak Mark coughed, blood in his mouth. He wiped ip from his lips and chin and weakly smiled at Jack in a feeble attempt to convince him not to worry.

"Well, you know that lovely man who's head I kinda mushed against the concrete? Turns out that was his brother-in-law. So he decided he would give me a much deserved smack about; which turned into him beating the shit out of me."  
Jack's heart sank, he knew Mark felt horrible about what had happened, but he hadn't realised he felt so bad that he felt he deserved to be beaten half to death. Although he didn't say it directly, Jack could tell Mark held no grudge against the guy and the way he talked about it made it sound like he honestly invited the idea of having the shit kicked out of him.  
"And then I fucking shot the guy in the leg as he clearly had no fucking intention of stopping." Ryan interjected, waiting expectantly for some kind of thanks from either of them, receiving a silent nod of gratitude from Jack before looking over at Mark hoping for the same. Mark used the arm rest to shakily get to his feet and then lean himself against the wall, unable to independently keep his balance.  
"You should have let him kill me." Mark said quietly, his voice low and gravelly. Ryan stopped stacking furniture against the door and turned to look at him, trying to work out if this was just some kind of sick joke.  
"Excuse me?"  
"You should have left him to it."

Ryan just stood there with his head still cocked and a grin on his face, not because he was amused but more because he wasn't sure how else to react. He looked at Jack for some help but he was just sat up in his bed, looking down at the sheets clearly wanting to avoid getting involved. He was serious, but this just annoyed Ryan more than anything.  
"Well why don't you just fucking go kill yourself, but first tell me what the fuck you did with Matt."  
Mark looked at Jack who was staring wide eyed at him, his expression pleading Mark not to tell him what had happened. Mark opened his mouth a couple times but closing it again, trying to decide what to say.  
"Ryan... Matt is-" he couldn't finish, a lump got stuck in his throat disallowing him to say the word that would utterly destroy his friend, then again not saying it would could be worse. He let out a sign and continued. "Matt is dead. I killed him and I'm sorry. I didn't-"  
Ryan's face went dark before charging full force at Mark, again smashing him against the wall so head it nearly cracked his skull open and began punching him until Mark lost his footing and slid the wall, leaving a crimson red trail as he went. Ryan began kicking him furiously, every kick causing Mark to yelp and scream in pain as the boots began to break his already damaged body. Mark had seen it coming but didn't try stop it, he knew this would happen before he even said the words. He could distantly hear Jack's freaking out and begging for Ryan to stop, the shouting from both men soon became muffled background noise and made it impossible for Mark to make out anythig that was being said, the pain preventing his brain from processing it. His body had become completely submerged in fiery agony to the point he couldn't even feel the boots being planted in his torso. His brain was screaming at him, telling him he needed to pass out to get away from this torture. But he wanted to feel it. He deserved to feel it. 

Jack yanked the wires out that hooked him up to the machinery and ran at Ryan to pull him away but was quickly knocked over, sprawling onto the floor as Ryan pulled back his arm back to get in another punch. He looked behind him to see Jack dazed on the floor, blood dripping from his nose. Then he looked down at Mark and the realisation hit him like a brick.

"Oh fuck."

Mark was curled up on the floor violently shaking, almost spasming as he clutched his head so hard his nails were digging into the back of his head, causing blood to trickle down his brow. His hair was matted down with blood that was oozing out of a large gash in the side of his head that had leaked over his head and pooled onto the floor. His whole body appeared dented where the boots had impacted his head, torso and limbs indicated he had sustained a serious amount of damage. He was unable to see his face because of the position he was in, but he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to either. Ryan bent down slightly to catch a glimpse of his face but upon seeing it he instantly regretted it, turning away and hurling up the contents of his stomach and falling to the ground as his knees buckled. Jack pushed Ryan against the wall before he could regain his stance. He crawled over to Mark and began talking to him, trying to get his attention, but nothing was getting through to him.

"What the fuck did he do to ye Mark?" he said, his voice shaking. He turned his head to look at Ryan who was sitting pathetically against the wall covered in his own vomit.  
"WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU? HE'S SICK! HE CAN'T CONTROL IT FER FUCK SAKE!"  
Ryan tried to look at Mark again but somehow managed to throw up again despite there being nothing left in his stomach for his body to reject. Jack wanted to remove his arms and see his face but he was afraid to touch him in case he hurt him, he was clearly already in agony. He stood up and quickly ran for the drawers in the desk that had been pushed against the door and fumbled through the drawers, looking for painkillers of some description. Failing that he began to try to pull away the furniture from the door whilst trying to ignore the shooting pain in his abdomen. Ryan just watched, frozen and unable to do anything despite Jack's pleads for help. Jack was unable to move the heavy furniture on his own and decided the only other way out was through the window through into the corridor. He yanked the blinds off of their rail before grabbing one of the chairs that he had thrown from the pile and hurled it towards the window, causing a loud smash that echoed down the long corridors. Jack basically flung himself out the window after the chair and caught the attention of everyone in the corridor, especially the hospital security who had been trying to ram their way through the door after being informed of all the commotion. They looked at him at him like he was insane as he started shouting too fast for people to understand. Jack gave up with communication and gestured for them to follow him back through the smashed window along with a few doctors who were horrified by what they discovered.

Jack sat in his bed having being forced into another ward by doctors as there was chance there could be internal damage caused by all of the commotion. He wanted to get up so desperately to get up, but even if he could Mark still wasn't allowed visitors. The only reassurance was that Dr. Ridgewell promised to keep him updated and let him know the second he could see him, this at least gave him some comfort. He had told Jack he was a good friend of Mark and apparently knew what was going on with him, but didn't tell him about the incident that had occurred a few days previous to keep from adding any more reasons to his list of things to stress over. A police officer called D.C. Michelle Smith had also been in to question Jack about everything that had happened over the last few days, asking about what Mark had done due to his illness and what happened between him and Ryan. He couldn't protect Mark by this point, it would be worse for everyone if he lied and likely damage Mark's chances of getting out of this; so he told her everything. She was very considerate and understanding, telling Jack she once had a friend once who suffered from a case similar to Mark's, only not as serious in terms of violent outbursts. This gave Jack a little comfort knowing at least someone understood what they were going through, especially someone working on the case in the police who could help lighten the load that had just suddenly been dumped on himself and Mark. Michelle also offered to come see him if he ever needed someone to talk to about it, which Jack greatly appreciated. After she left due to having to respond to a call, he just sat and worried. 

He was helpless to do anything without risking his health which he knew Mark would blame himself for if anything happened as he always did. He is such a sweet man and that's why Jack fell for him to begin with, always thinking of himself before others. Jack tried to put himself in Mark's place, trying to imagine what was going through his head when he had to sit there trapped in his own mind whilst his body killed people, tortured people. The guilt must have been unbearable, so much so that even just trying to simulate it made Jack feel sick to his stomach.

'Oh god, Mark must think I must be repulsed by him. That he makes me sick. He thinks all of this is fault and who could blame him? I have been a shit boyfriend fer tryin' to run away when he needed me most and shoutin' at him fer not tellin' me what was going on, I don't think I could tell anyone if I were him. I would be scared shitless of scaring away the people I loved if I had a demon like that living in the back of my mind, just waiting for an opportunity to make his life a living hell. It made him stab Matt, drove Daniel to suicide, sent Ryan over the edge causing him to try to beat him to death and almost killed me. He couldn't live with it, and I'm pretty sure anyone else in his shoes wouldn't be able to either.'

Jack couldn't stop himself from crying. Just a glimpse of what hell Mark was being dragged through was heartbreaking to the point it physically hurt. He was trying so hard to protect the ones he loved from the shit he was being forced to endure but it was impossible, no matter how much he sacrificed to keep everyone safe there was no possible way. And there was nobody he could blame but himself. He had been to see countless psychiatric professionals and bankrupt himself in the process, none of them able to get rid of it or work out what caused it which led him to the only logical conclusion. And it terrified him. He knew Mark didn't want to die but if he didn't then he was only other option was to let Dark take over entirely, hurting everyone he loved and technically killing him too. In his mind he was going to die either way, so he would rather do it on his own terms.

The door slowly creaked open and Jack wiped away the fluids from his face with the back of his hand in an attempt to hide his worries from the unexpected visitor.  
"Jack? Can I come in?"  
Jack sat up and composed himself as to look somewhat presentable.  
"Yeah."  
Dr. Ridgewell peered his head around the door and smiled at Jack in a sympathetic manner. He walked into the room, closing the door behind him.  
"I've been better." Jack croaked, a slight smile etched on his face. Dr. Ridgewell made his way over the the bed and pulled up a chair to Jack's bedside, his face solemn. Upon seeing this, Jack's expression instantly turned to one of worry, realising that Dr. Ridgewell was likely to update him on Mark's condition. Judging by his face, it wasn't good news. He didn't want to ask, but he knew it would be worse not knowing.  
"How's Mark doin'? Is he awake yet?" Jack asked, his voice slightly shaking, not wanting an answer.

"No not yet. I um... I need your permission to perform some tests."  
Jack's eyes widened at this request.

"What kind of tests?" 

"Well, we managed to get him stable, however we believe there may still be a chance Mark due to the head trauma sustained that he might have suffered brain damage. This may not be the case but we need to perform some tests to know for sure."  
Jack sat, his eyes pricked with tears as he placed his face into his hands and pulling up his knees to his chest. Dr. Ridgewell sat by his side, his eyes glassy but trying to keep as professional as possible. He was Mark's friend but he was also his doctor, and if he starts crying in front of his boyfriend it would only make things worse and heighten emotions. Taking a deep breathe in and blinking away tears, he placed his hand on Jack's arm supportively. After a while, Jack lifted his head away from his hands, his face red and damp.  
"Do you need me to sign anything?" Dr. Ridgewell tried to put on a comforting smile.  
"Yes but I won't bother them with now, we can sort all that later." Jack looked at him gratefully. He didn't want to have deal with all the paper right now, he just wanted Mark to be alright. He just wanted everything to be alright.

 

Jack was sat at the end of his bed in his black boxers with the grey trim, his hospital gown folded on the sheets beside him. A nurse was knelt in front of him, changing the bandaging that covered the wound that pierced his abdomen. 

"Right, that's me finished. Now before you go anywhere can you please promise me you don't plan to jump through any windows."  
This seemed to brighten up Jack's mood a little, the nurse slightly proud of herself for doing so. She had heard about everything that had happened and knew it was a really shitty situation for him. She was just happy she could make him smile, even if it was only for a couple seconds.  
"Would you like me to ask about visiting times?"  
Jack nodded, his eyes fixated on the floor. The nurse left, leaving Jack to get ready, returning a few moments later to tell Jack he could go see Mark. She offered to take him in a wheelchair which would be less painful but he politely declined; he needed to stretch his legs. After the nurse left, Jack took a couple moments to steady himself in his room, the morphine still in his blood stream. He gradually made his way down the corridor towards Mark's room, not sure if he was actually ready to see him. He wasn't entirely sure he would be able to handle it.

Jack eventually approached the door to Mark's room. He placed his hand on the handle and stood there for what felt to him like hours. As he cautiously opened the door his heart sank into his stomach.

There were wires and tubes connecting him up to monitors and machines that were keeping his life signs stable, making the sight all the more unsettling. His right cheek and jaw bone as well as the outlines of his eye sockets were badly bruised, making it look like someone had contoured his face with dark make-up. His bottom lip had been stitched up after having been torn open by the blunt force that hit him square in the mouth. A small amount of padding had been applied to bridge of his nose and his left eyebrow, presumably having been cut open followed by multiple tiny bandaids covering cuts on his cheeks and forehead. There was a large amount of gauze wrapped around the top of Mark's head, covering the large gash above his ear and his temple which had now become a slight crater in the side of his head where the tip of Ryan's boots had impacted.  
The only thing audible to Jack was the sounds of the machines whirring and beeping, yet it all sounded so faint. Like none of this was real, more like a bad dream. He looked over his shoulder to see all the scans and X-rays pinned up on a dimly lit board. They showed all the damage done, from the fracture in his skull to the shattered bones in his arm. Jack wanted to be sick but his body wouldn't allow it, lowering him into a chair. His dry heaving turned to loss of breathe and then to crying. He was so lost in his emotions he didn't even hear Dr. Ridgewell enter the room, results of the tests in hand. Jack looked up and spotted the papers he was holding outstretched in front of him offering them to Jack, but Jack already knew what the result were just from the look on his face.


End file.
